


Bad Kids

by bustoparadise



Series: The Jenny and The Ox [6]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:17:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6584779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bustoparadise/pseuds/bustoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor's brother comes to Skyhold. Since Sera's lover, Adder Adaar, abandoned her brother when he was a kid, that's a big deal—which becomes even bigger when everything goes to shit. (Because of course it does.) Can Sera help Adder cope, or will secrets and pain tear them apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Brats

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: Physical abuse of children. Alcoholism.

Sera’s eating pretzels on the roof with Adder, her head on her lover’s lap. Adder’s leaning back on her elbows. All Sera can see is the spring sky, white clouds like cheesecloth stretched over the blue and the faint scar where the sky got torn open. When Adder leans forward and blocks her view, Sera glances into the courtyard. Charter, the Inquisition’s new spymaster, is coming toward them.

 _Not fair! Today’s us-time, not everyone-else-time. Friggin’ told the war table team that, didn’t I?_ Somehow, despite Corypheums being dead and the sky sealed, Adder’s just as busy now as she was before she saved the world. Sera’s goal today was to tell the world to get right off.

Sera immediately starts planning a revenge prank.

“Forgive my intrusion,” Charter says, which is a nice start. “Inquisitor, the Qunari you asked my people to find walked through the gate.”

With her head on Adder’s lap and her cheek against her belly, Sera can feel Adder’s muscles tighten. Sera sits up.

Adder’s brother is here.

“Huh,” Adder says. “So that’s why all my spies in faraway, exotic lands couldn’t find him. Good to know. I was worried I’d have to start firing.” That’s a joke, but maybe it’s not as funny as Adder thinks it is. She’s been cutting back on the spies and bringing in more diplomats. Time for a kinder, gentler Inquisition now Corinimus’s gone.

Sera shares a glance with Adder. This is big. This is the little brother she abandoned when their mum was being a drunk, kid-hitting monster.

But here’s Adder, trying to treat this like it’s everyday. Sera follows her lead.

After Charter leaves, Sera asks, “You want to be alone for this?”

“Maker, no. With you here, I won't run. That'd be a fun memory to remind him of.”

Adder needs to get all the mean jokes out of her system, draining it like black bile from the humours. “You can run loads faster, now. Your legs is bigger. Longer stride.”

“We could play hide and seek through Skyhold. Like when we were kids! But with fewer beatings.”

They find Karaas in the courtyard, watching the Inquisition soldiers sparring. At first, Sera thinks Charter’s got the wrong Qunari—his hair, tied into a short ponytail, and stubble are pure white. He’s way too old. Then she remembers most Qunari have white hair. Adder and Bull are the weirdies who don’t. He's all armoured up, head to toe. The suit's seen better days—leather worn, steel pitted. He's got a scabbard at his waist but no sword. Guests don't get to walk around with weapons, after all.

Qunari are pretty noticeable, and Karaas obviously wasn't watching the soldiers that closely, so he watches them walk over. Hard to make out his expression at a distance, 'specially with his rashvine vitaar on.

While they're still out of earshot, Adder weakly murmurs, “Maker...he looks so much like her.”

Sera can now put a bit more of a face to their mother, Ash, who she's hated for years now. A feminine version of Karaas, maybe with Adder's jaw and lush eyelashes.

Without thinking about what she's going to say, Sera opens her mouth to speak.

Adder's faster. “When I abandoned him, I said I was going out for some air. Should I start with 'Well, finally found some'?”

“If you want to be a right bitch, sure. But maybe that's not what you're going for?”

“Mmm. Maybe.”

Once they're close enough, Sera looks for similarities between brother and sister and finds only their large jug ears. Otherwise, they're loads different: his face triangular to her oval, lips thin to her thick, nose pointed to her round, skin pale grey and smooth to her dark and weathered, eyes purple to her orange. And he's got proper horns, huge and curled like a ram's. Even they're armoured, with ridged bronze sheaths that gleam in the sunlight.

Karaas's gaze flicks to Sera, but he watches Adder warily. Adder walks confident, easy, her face not too friendly but polite enough. Sera can only guess how much the show is costing her. She wants to grab Adder's hand and give it a squeeze, but she doesn't.

“Inquisitor Adaar,” the Qunari says, bowing his head briefly. His tone's got a hint of a question. In her brown leathers she looks like any other mercenary.

“You got me.” She smiles, but not with her eyes. “Adder Adaar.” He blinks, a touch surprised. Adder gave herself that name—if Sera ever heard what Adder's birth-name was, it's not springing to mind now. “This is Sera, my lover.”

“Hello,” he says, only sparing Sera a glance. “I thought I was hearing things, the first time 'Inquisitor Adaar' dropped from someone's lips. I was all the way out in Rivain, looking at a new sword. The merchant boasted you'd bought a dagger from his partner's shop in Val Royeaux. 'A frequent patron of Monsieur Thenardier.'”

Adder chuckles. “I bought a piece off him once two years ago.” No need to go boasting that Dagna can make better shite at Skyhold in her sleep.

“I figured. Ever since I heard your name, I've been trying to find jobs that took me closer to Skyhold. It took some time. The Red Templars and Venatori made travel difficult.”

“I had people out looking for you,” Adder says. Another brief flash of surprise from Karaas. He must've thought Adder didn't care enough to try and find him. “Caught wind of your work with the Red Talons, but after that we lost your trail. The Talons are a good company—I did some work with them in ‘37.” A faint pause, then she teases, “Two mercenaries. Dad must be rolling in his grave.”

Karaas doesn't smile. He shrugs, says a neutral, “You'd know better than I.”

Into the awkward moment, Sera says, “We should all grab a pint at the Herald's Rest and catch up, yeah?”

Karaas looks startled, like that's more than he planned, and while Adder doesn't seem to mind, she might just be pretending.

“I don't drink,” he says.

“Well, the Rest serves water.” Suddenly unsure, she glances at Adder. “Right?”

Adder chuckles. “It does, love.”

They take a seat by the fire, Karaas and Adder with water, Sera with some cheap ale. Sera tries to see the Rest through Karaas' eyes, then gives that up. It's too much her place for her to look at it another way. Shame there's no Maryden playing, but she's taken her act on the road. Cole followed her, the weirdy, and Maryden let him. Some other minstrel's playing now—Companions, listing all the friends that aren't here—but he's not as good. She may write some shite songs now and then, but Maryden can frigging sing.

Once they're settled, Sera sneaks her hand onto Adder's knee and squeezes it gently.

“Our mother died,” Karaas says. He says it simple, like it means nothing.

Adder isn't surprised. “How?”

Karaas glances from Adder to Sera.

“I know your mum was a cunt,” Sera says. “No need to fake a sniffle on my account.”

“She drank herself to sleep one night and didn't wake up the next morning.” Karaas stares into the fire, gaze going distant. “I was ten.”

Sympathy and pain age Adder's face. Karaas glances at her, taking in her reaction without any visible one of his own. Sera can't place if he's happy to have hurt her, embarrassed, irritated—nothing. Sera squeezes Adder's knee, hard.

“How did you—?” Adder begins.

“Survive?” At her nod, he says, “We were in unfriendly country, and we'd been forced deep in the woods. A Dalish clan found me. They sheltered me until I could fend for myself, then sent me on my way.”

Hall, an archer on one of the Inquisition's teams, has the same story. “Friggin' Dalish nobs.”

Surprised, Karaas turns to her. “They could have left me to die.” Not angry, not defensive, just saying a fact, tone cool as autumn rain. “They were kind, in their way.”

“Psssh. 'Here, be part of our family—oh, wait, you don't have pointy ears or stupid tattoos? You don't act the way we say you should? Sod off, then.'”

“Sera's...not fond of the Dalish,” Adder explains.

“'Not fond'? Using words wrong, love. 'Sodding hate'. There. Made your words work right.”

“Ah yes, silly me, trying to keep the discussion polite.”

There’s a lull, next. Sera’s just about to say something when Adder inhales. She meets her brother’s gaze, direct, unwavering, though she licks her lips and hesitates before speaking. Sera clutches Adder’s knee, trying to will strength into her through touch.

“I'm so sorry I left you with her, Karaas. I'm sorry for...everything else. What I did to you was the biggest mistake of my life. I'm not expecting forgiveness. I just wanted to tell you that.”

He's looked surprised a lot since they've met—only right he'd look surprised again. It's deeper, this feeling, lasts longer, trips him up. He tries to speak but makes no sound. Then he swallows. A glance into the fire, but why look there when it's the same colour as his sister's eyes? So he looks back at her.

Adder should be saying more: How she always meant to go back. How she tried to find him. How she turned down jobs just to hunt rumours of a mum and son pair of Qunari throughout the Free Marches. How she just wanted to make enough money first for them to live on. But she's not. She's just letting it hang there.

“It's true,” Sera blurts out. “She feels like shite. She—” But if Adder isn't saying that, she has a reason. Sera shuts up.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches her lover looking at her. Before Sera can catch Adder's expression, Karaas is speaking; Adder's attention goes to him.

“I appreciated your apology, Inquisitor. Thank you.” Stiff and too-polite, but could be worse. “My memories of my life before the Dalish clan are hazy, and I've worked to keep them so. Perhaps this meeting could be a fresh start for us both?”

Now, Adder's surprised. “Really?”

He nods, then holds up his cup in a toast. “To new beginnings.”

Adder touches her cup to his, smiling. It's a real smile that comes from that core of good-natured, snerky Adderness deep inside. There's no hurt on her face. “To new beginnings.”

He glances at Sera, inviting her into the toast, and she raises her cup. “To what you lot said.” All three of them gulp their drinks—their dry mouths need it.

Sera leans into Karaas as they put their cups down. “Now, I know your memory's hazy and all, but I gotta ask: what were her horns like?”

“If the Inquisitor hasn't told you, I'm sure she has her reasons.”

“Boo. No fun.”

Adder's hand slips below the table and squeezes Sera's.

* * *

Karaas asks the questions anyone would. “So, that's the hand that can seal rifts?” and “Is it true that the Temple of Sacred Ashes was _floating_ when you vanquished the Evil One?” and all that. The conversation after that is mostly merc talk. This sod pays well, this company has a shite rep, Old So And So cheated some blokes out of their pay ages ago.

Karaas has a huge stiff one for Iron Bull and the Bull's Chargers. Leans in close when Adder and Sera tell tales about 'em, eyes wide. He doesn't say “Get me a job with them,” but Sera can smell it clear as shit in a barn. Adder would give her little brother the world. Bull won't take just anyone, but Sera knows without even having to ask that Adder'll make the introduction.

“Let me give you a tour,” Adder says. She glances at Sera. “Sorry, love, we're keeping you from that thing...?” She looks for all the world like she's trying to remember instead of making all this up.

 _Not my part of the story—and she'll tell me the stuff that matters later._ “Oh, shite, yeah. See you.” She heads off. Some Red Jenny news needs reading, anyway.

Hours later, when Sera goes back to her room (which used to be just Adder's), Adder’s stretched out on the couch, reading, her head propped up by the arm rest. “Catch.” She throws a necklace at Sera.

Sera catches it. The strap’s made of worn leather, and there’s three sewn-shut leather bags as pendants. They’re about as long as her thumb, stuffed with something soft. She pinches one. Is that a stone inside?

“My brother kept his necklace of the kadan.”

“His what now?”

“It’s a Qunari thing.” She explains about breaking a dragon’s tooth in half—only fourths in this case, since her da made it and split it up among the family, then their mum split her tooth to give half to baby Karaas. “He was a little shy about giving it to me. He didn’t wear it, but he’d held onto it since Mom died. Even he wasn’t sure why.”

Adder sighs. “And after we had this nice moment, I—like the clever rogue I am—make a bacon joke. Not sure if you’ve noticed this, but sometimes I use humour when I’m feeling uncomfortable.”

“What, only then? Shite, you’re uncomfortable a lot. When you get up in the morning. When you get your mail. When you take a bath. When you—”

“Are you doing a bit?”

“Mm, s’pose I am. Wonder where I got that from?” Sera leans forward. “So, bacon joke, yeah?”

“Karaas looked surprised. I told him Dad made the necklace out of a boar’s tusk, not a dragon fang. I’m not even sure Dad killed the boar—probably just slipped a butcher some copper. Karaas said he assumed the pendants were so small because the dragon tooth was split four ways.

“There’s gotta be another way to destroy his childhood. Apparently, I’m just really good at it! Tell him he was adopted? Say he was born with a tail?” Adder groans in mock-frustration, but Sera knows her well enough that just because she says things lightly doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel them strongly. “I’m the worst big sister ever.”

“Haven’t been one for a while, yeah?”

“No, I always was one. I just pretended I wasn’t.”

“Well...all right, put it like that, you’re kinda the worst. So,” she holds up the necklace, “what’re you gonna do with this?”

“Ugh. Please, just put it somewhere I don’t have to think about it.”

Sera brings it to the storage room, once her room at the Rest, and tosses it in the corner. She returns to her room. Finding her journal, she snags it and lies down on the bed.

Adder's still in a talky mood. “I showed off the library, all proud of myself for my collection. He was polite, but he obviously didn't care. I always tried to get him interested in reading. Seems it never took. Dad would have found a way. He could make anything fun.”

“Your da...how'd he go, again?” Once, Sera never would have pushed. She treated Adder’s past like this deep mystery, this big unknowable thing. But if Adder doesn't want to talk, she can duck away easy enough. What's a question or two between lovers?

“The flu. A Chantry in Wettenburg took us in when he was too sick to move. The sisters and brothers were good to us; they tried as hard to save Dad as if he’d been one of their own. We just got there too late. The worst thing was, my parents were healers. They knew what plants could help fight a lung infection. If we’d just had the coin...if Mom or Dad had stooped to stealing....” She sighs. “They were idiots. Noble, well-intentioned idiots.”

Her gaze focuses on something behind Sera. “He died surrounded by Mom, pregnant with his son, and me. I like to think that made his passing peaceful.” Her gaze snaps back to the here-and-now as she shrugs. “Well, as peaceful as drowning in your own fluids can be, anyway. The Chantry even burned his body when they could’ve just shoved him in a pauper’s grave. They were good people.”

Sera writes _Wettenburg_ in her journal _._ The name’s got a Free March-y ring to it. She repeats it to herself, so she’ll remember to look it up. They can go there someday.

“Karaas was born a few days after Dad died. Everyone worried about him; he was a month early, and so tiny! You’d never know it, now.”

Sera would call him small, but when your only comparison is Iron Bull, everyone looks small. She starts sketching Adder's face with her brother's horns on them.

“I suppose I have the Dalish to thank for that.” A bit lighter, Adder says, “D’you know, I tried to nurse him, once?”

Sera blinks. “Um, ewww.”

“In my defense, I _was_ eight....”

“Still ewww.” Sera examines her sketch. Adder's face looks awful with Karaas's horns. She scratches it out.

“You’re right. Mom caught me and made me stop.” Adder pauses. “Without beating me. That came later, with the drinking.”

“Frigging cunt.”

A wrinkle appears between Adder’s brows. “You know, I actually pity her? She tried so hard to keep her family together that she broke. And I didn’t help. I was—”

“Don’t defend her. Swat a kid’s bum now and then, sure, whatever. What she did to you’s different. You don’t hit kids.”

Adder looks back at her book. “Mm. Well. Understanding doesn’t mean forgiving.” Storytime over.

Sera turns the page and sees a sketch she didn’t make. Her journal isn’t really private—she’s lost it so many places around Skyhold that anyone curious enough has probably got an eyeful of her thoughts. She knows Adder reads it, only she usually pretends she doesn’t snoop. She’s certainly never as good as told her by scribbling in her journal like this.

Adder wrote: _They looked like this._

Below that is a barebones sketch of Adder’s face, large ears—and horns. They sweep up then curve inward a bit, making a teardrop shape between them.

Weirdly, Sera feels a bit disappointed. She liked the mystery of not knowing.

“You don't like your gift?” Adder asks, confused.

 _Oh, of course she was watching._ “No. Not that. Just..well, s'pose I thought they'd be grander.”

Adder chuckles. “Not every Qunari gets Iron Bull-style horns. Mom didn't have any, actually. That's supposed to make her special to Qunari.” A slight snort. “My horns looked a lot like Dad's.”

 _She loved her Da fierce._ “So, good memory, innit?”

Adder shrugs. “They're just horns.” Her gaze goes distant. “Clients used them like handles when I worked at Granny Mae's.”

Sera’s skin crawls, like it always does when Adder drops words about Granny Mae and the whorehouse she worked at from age fourteen to twenty. “Oh.” She licks at her lips. “What about when I grab your nubbies? Do you hate that?” It's a stupid question. Adder's not one to be shy about what she likes.

Adder's gaze meets hers, and her smile slowly unfurls across her face. “I've never hated anything you do to me.”

Relief makes Sera grin. Sometimes, it's good to hear the answer even to a stupid question.

Adder shuts her book.

Sera perks up. That signal, she knows. She tosses her journal over her shoulder and walks toward Adder, slipping out of her shoes and shirt. As she undoes her pants, she hops around in circles, kicking her left leg until the pant is half off, then doing the same with her right. The “sodding pants, get off!” dance. She'd done this once before, ages ago, when Adder had her clit throbbing so hard that taking pants off became the hardest thing in the world. Was teeth-grinding at the time. Now, it's funny.

“Ah, pants," Adder murmurs. "So tricky.” She stands up—somehow she even stands with swagger. “Let me help.”

* * *

Next morning, Karaas is out training with Cullen's troops. He's got his sword back, which is nothing special, and a large nondescript shield. He's got good form—not that that means much when it's just warm-ups and sparring. Adder and Sera stop by to give him some of Adder's favourite vitaar.

“I just happened to have some extra,” Adder says. She doesn't. Dragon hunter vitaar comes from dragon-bone powder and this moss that only grows in the Frostback Basin. Once the moss is dried, ground up, and mixed with the dragon bones and poisons, it takes forever for the vitaar to reach full strength. Adder's a friend of Stone Bear Hold, but even with the friend discount, this vitaar is still the most expensive thing she owns.

Karaas's eyes widen as he examines it. “I can see why you'd have a lot. I've never even seen these kind of colours. Where did you get this?”

“From an Avvar clan in the Frostback Basin. I can set you up with them.”

He recoils a bit. “I hate to think what that would cost. But thank you for the thought, Inquisitor.” He slips it into a pouch at his waist. That vitaar's much too good to waste on training.

Sera wonders if it's ever going to be 'Adder,' not 'Inquisitor.' She hopes so, for Adder's sake.

In the distance comes “Oh, no man can beat the Chargers, 'cuz we'll hit 'em where it hurts!”

Karaas doesn't know the tune like she and Adder do; to him, the words are probably gibberish this far away. But Adder and Sera share a look.

“I hear the Chargers,” Adder says.

Karaas straightens, glancing around. “Oh?”

“Time to impress the Bull,” Sera says. She looks between Karaas and Adder. There's one obvious way to do that. “He should come in to see you two sparring.”

A frown cuts deep scars between Adder’s brows. Karaas shifts his weight and looks out over the courtyard. Only then does Sera realize that maybe when two kids grow up smacked about, asking them to smack each other about is frigging stupid.

 _Well. Shite._ Sera opens her mouth, not a clue what she’s going to say but knowing she has to say something.

Before she can, Karaas looks back at the two of them. “That’s a great idea, actually.”

“What?” says Adder.

“Only if you want to, of course. You haven't even warmed up....” He seems for-real worried. If he'd said that in any other tone, that would've been trash-talking.

Adder laughs. “Out in the field, fights don't always wait for you to do your stretches. You stay in this business a few more years, you'll learn how to compensate for that.” Ah, there's the trash-talking. Trust Adder to keep things above the belt.

“'This business'?” He eyes her with an anxious frown. “From what I’ve heard, you've been out of the life for a long time, Inquisitor. In fact, they say,” he nods to the soldiers all around him, “the Herald of Andraste hasn't even shown her face on the training grounds for months. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your men....”

 _Wait, his funny looks like serious._ Sera feels like she gets Karaas a bit more. And it’s interesting that he’s asked around about Adder.

Sera flashes Adder a grin. “She got me to give her all the exercise she needs.”

Karaas glances away, clearing his throat.

“'Sides,” Sera continues, “she been too busy killing high dragons to—”

“No need to boast, love. Karaas won't fight as well without the illusion that he stands a chance.” Adder goes off to grab some wooden daggers, leaving Sera and Karaas alone. Everyone else on the training ground's been pretending not to watch the Inquisitor and the Qunari she's taken such a shine to. No one's gossiping right in front of them, but they gotta be going on about this in the barracks.

“She what you thought she'd be?” Sera asks.

Karaas watches his sister. He says “No,” so neutrally that she can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. After a moment's thought, he looks back at Sera. “Have you been together long?”

“Forever, seems like. ‘Round...frig, three whole years? Huh. Mad, that.” He’s looking at her like she said something weird. “Hey, I shouldn'ta pissed on your Dalish fam last night. Bit of a sore spot for me, but that don't make it right.”

“They made it clear they weren't really my family.” There's a flatness to his tone that makes her heart hurt. “But it's second nature to defend someone who's shown you a bit of kindness, I suppose.”

“Ugh. Elfy elves say they're better than you in a thousand ways, don't they? Had a lover once tried to get me in good with 'em. I said _Darek Shirell_ wrong one too many times, though.” An idea about the sparring match hits her. “Wait, get started without me, I gotta do something.” She pauses, adds, “She'll go for your left side first,” before she runs off.

“I...thank you?” is all she hears of Karaas' reply.

By the barracks is the weapons storage room. She grabs a bow, finds some blunted arrows and swings a quiver of them on her back. Then she takes the steps to the courtyard two at a time, then from there to the battlements overlooking the courtyard.

Her hair’s proper long, these days—past her shoulders. The wind whips it about so she has to claw it back behind her ears. The other day, Adder joked that Sera sheds hair ties like a dog in spring sheds fur. They’re never around when she needs them.

Hair out of her eyes, Sera watches Adder and Karaas spar. A feint here, a dodge there, still circling and getting each other's measure. She focuses on Karaas. Doesn't seem anything special. Adder coulda brought him down with one hand up to cover her yawn. _Going soft on him, just like I thought._ The soldiers are starting to gather—Sera will have to start firing arrows soon or risk hitting people.

Bull and the Chargers are in the courtyard now. Inhaling deep, Sera whoops, “Kick his arse, Buckles!”, nocks an arrow, draws and fires at Adder. Practice arrows are heavier than Sera's usual, their blunted end covered in wads of cotton so they don't hurt more than a punch, so the arrow falls long before Sera meant it to.

Adder reacts instantly to the hiss of an arrow. She whirls around in time to see the arrow fall a few yards away from its target. “Sera!” she shouts—then ducks the wooden sword Karaas swings at her. The soldiers between Sera and the practice circle scatter out of the way.

They've got Iron Bull's attention. Good. Sera nocks and draws again. But they're still fighting like two kids having a shoving match. Karaas's good at taking hits, the way sword-and-shielders always are, but he doesn't strike out as much as Cass or Blackwall would. He's still cautious. Sera fires and arrow right in between the two of them.

His shield swings out—protecting Adder. The arrow bounces off his shield. He and Adder share a look. Sera gets another arrow ready. They can have feelings at each other all they want once they're off the field. Karaas says something that makes Adder laugh and banter back. Sera sends three arrows at them in succession, but they're both safe behind Karaas' shield.

Adder says something. As she speaks, she snaps the pommel of her dagger up to meet Karaas' face. Karaas pulls back just in time, swinging his shield between them. He grins, mouth stretching as broad as his sister's does. The first look at Karaas behind his armour—this is the guy Sera wants to see more of.

The sibs start fighting good and proper. Karaas clips Adder with a shield bash that makes Sera wince until she remembers it's just from a wooden shield. Soon, Adder and Karaas and Sera all fall away. There's only the gap in the defense, the reach of the sword, the furious assault of the daggers, the places where the arrows can hit.

Adder wins. Iron Bull would call bullshit if she didn't. Karaas bashes her off-balance, she falls, and while she clutches her head, he raises his sword. But he doesn't notice the arc her legs make as they sweep his feet out from under him. They wrestle around on the ground a bit, but Adder gets her daggers to his throat. He raises his hands, surrendering.

They're panting, dirty, sweating as Adder helps him to his feet. Sera bolts down to the courtyard. It looks like Bull's about to lead the Chargers into the Herald's Rest. Sera helpfully notes, “Some fight, innit?” to make him stay. One of the soldiers is handing Adder and Karaas cups of water.

“Good to see Adder out in the yard,” Bull says approvingly. “Who's that guy, anyway?”

“Karaas.” Feels like Adder should be the one saying this, but she’s still chatting with her brother. “Karaas Adaar. Her brother.”

Bull's got to know something about Adder's family shite. His gaze sharpens as he looks between Karaas and Adder: his Bin-Hissthath stare. “Hmm.” He glances back at Sera. “How's she taking it?”

“Things are weird, but after Corininan, what's a little weird? She seems fine.”

Iron Bull grunts. “Yeah, she's good at seeming fine.”

Simple words, but they make worry tighten Sera's shoulders. What else can she do to help Adder? Their shag last night was fine. Adder slept the night through. She was so normal this morning. Just a day like any other.

 _Bull's grand, but he don't really know her. I know her._ _She drew her bleeding horns for me. She ain't hiding anymore._

“Think drinks with me and the boys will help?”

Sera blinks. That's exactly the chance Karaas is waiting for. “Bull, you read my mind.” She grins up at him. “Think that means a demon's faffing about in you, pulling thoughts outta my skull. Better watch out.”

Bull huffs at the word 'demon'. “You're uninvited.”

“Pssh. No party ever made could keep me out, big man.”

* * *

Which is true as true can be. The Chargers get their gear stowed and polished, Lady Josie gets their coins counted and paid out, Cabot gets the kegs tapped and glasses cleaned, and the party starts—with Sera in the thick of it.

Adder makes the introduction while her brother tries not to piddle. “Bull, this is my little brother, Karaas Adaar.”

“Hey,” Bull says, clasping arms with Karaas.

Karaas’s return “Hey,” is a little breathy.

“You two have a mutual boss in common, Bull: Fisher of Fisher’s Bleeders.”

Iron Bull laughs in surprise. “He’s still around? Shit. Sorry you had to deal with him.”

There’s a pause before Karaas jumps in with, “It was a caravan run from Hossberg to Kirkwall. A group of bandits took us three days in. Ah, most of us survived.”

“The goal of any good captain is all. So, how long have you been in the business?”

“Since I was seventeen, so...uh, ten—no, thirteen years.” Karaas clears his throat. With only a smidge more confidence, he manages, “I heard you fought moving trees?”

Krem loves telling tales. Karaas has stories, too, but Sera knows from the few she heard yesterday that they’re pretty ordinary. They’re not Chargers-level. _But even the Chargers weren't born Chargers. Bull knows that._

Seems like Karaas doesn’t know Bull knows that, though. He licks his lips now and then, and Sera’s close enough that she can see the pulse hammering away at his throat.

Things get a tetch awkward when Rocky asks what the Valo-Kas are like.

Karaas shrugs. “I’ve never—I, uh, couldn’t say.” He opens his mouth then closes it.

Adder rescues him. “We’ve actually never worked together. Our lives took us in pretty separate directions. This is the first time we’ve seen each in...wow, feels like forever.”

Karaas nods. Sera’d wondered what “I abandoned my brother when he was six years old” was going to turn into. It’s only awkward for the three of them; nobody’s got any followup questions.

As he chit chats, Karaas tries to keep cool, but watching him's a touch embarrassing. He goes overboard. Even starts talking in Elvish to Dalish. When he's off listening to Rocky's story about the time he exploded the Shaperate, Sera asks how Dalish liked him. “I could barely understand a word he said,” she admits. “The Rivaini clans have the most peculiar accent, it seems.”

Sera manages to snag Karaas alone as he listens to the minstrel.

“So, what'd you think of the Bull?”

“He's very...big, isn't he?” Karaas murmurs, gaze locked on Iron Bull's back.

Sera knows that look. “He's got a lover. Dorian's off in Tevinter laying the smackdown on some slaver nobs, but Bull gets letters on the regular.” It's unfortunate for Bull and Dorian that “on the regular” means “once every few months,” what with the ocean between them and all.

“Dorian. That's the magister that fought with the Inquisition?”

“He's not a—yeah, that's the one.” Wouldn't Dorian just gloat if he caught Sera calling him by his proper title? “So, anyway, the Bull's got a rider.” Sure, Adder says Dorian and Bull have an understanding that they can mess around while they're separated, but Sera won't help her friends be stupid.

“Uh, I wasn't—” Karaas clears his throat.

 _Not a great liar, this one._ “You single?”

Karaas nods. His gaze flickers from her; his weight shifts. Some people feel awkward, like they're being judged for not having found someone. Sera hated that shite when she was single, so she keeps things casual.

“You looking? Fine if you're not, but if you are, I'm the people that knows people. I set up,” she starts counting on her fingers, then gives it up after eight, “a frigging load of couples around Skyhold. I got two babes named after me: Sera and Jenny.”

He blinks at her second name. “I'm not looking, but thank you.”

 _Who makes mercs this sodding polite?_ He doesn't take the bait and ask why she's also called Jenny. He's gone back into himself. He inhales deep, looking across the Herald's Rest at all the Bull's Chargers. The legends. His gauntleted hand clenches at his side.

 _So prattling on with me ain't on his list of priorities. Fair._ “Hey, mate.” Sera would put her hand on his shoulder if he could feel it. “He loves Maraas-Lok.” Karaas's eyes widen at the name. “Not too expensive, neither. You get some for him and Adder, they'd appreciate it.”

“Even I've heard of Maraas-Lok.” His expression drops. “Maker, if anyone starts a drinking contest....”

“No, that's.... Argh, the Bull's complicated, yeah? He seems like he's just this one thing, but he's not. You say you don't want to drink, he gets it. Everything's all good by him, long as you can do your job. Shite, one of his Chargers just grunts all the time. Maybe he’d have a happier life if he talked to people like people do, yeah? But Bull don't try and change that.”

Karaas takes this in, so serious he looks like a stereotypical Qunari. “All right. But...is there anything he likes slightly less? I don't want to seem like I'm brown-nosing.”

“Good idea. See, mate, you got this.” She thinks a mo. “Flames of Our Lady's always a good choice.”

“Flames of Our Lady,” he mutters, like he's worried he'll forget. Sera's startled. What merc doesn't spend enough time in taverns to know about Flames? It's not that uncommon.

_Maybe I should be like Bull and let people be the weirdies they are. Look at how good I pay attention to shite I don't care about._

Karaas smiles down at her, his expression softer than she's seen it. Another peek behind the armour. “Thanks, Sera. You've been a great help.”

Sera grins back. Sera was always the wrong kind of elf. Not so weird to think Karaas might've always felt like the wrong kind of merc.

He heads over to the bar. Adder always says you don’t really know a person until you’ve played Wicked Grace with them. Might be easier on Karaas if everyone were playing a game instead of him trying to make chit-chat with a room full of strangers. Also, Krem beat Sera last time they played—time to win some coin back.

Sera’s got a set of Wicked Grace cards in her old room. She nabs a candle then takes the stairs two at a time. Ten of her Naughty Chantry set are collecting dust in the corner. She’s cleaning them off when there’s scattered applause downstairs. Sera pokes her head out.

Karaas is backing away from Iron Bull, having spilled two tankards worth of booze on him. Sera cringes. “Oh, Andraste’s tits, mate!” she mutters.

One of the serving girls rushes over with a dish towel. Karaas, stammering apologies, takes the towel from her and wipes Bull off himself. Bull shrugs and says something with a smile that makes Adder laugh. Karaas doesn’t even crack a smile. Only when Bull waves him away does he back off, eyeing Bull uneasily. Adder says something, easy-going as anything. Karaas nods once, forces a smile, then says something and heads for the door, ignoring the serving girl who tries to take the dish towel from him.

 _Frig, don’t sulk! All right—pep talk, part two._ Sera bounds down the stairs and hurries after him.

“Love,” Adder says as Sera passes her, “Karaas just needs a moment—” Sera’s gone before she can finish, and the tavern’s loud enough that she can pretend she didn’t hear. Adder didn’t see Karaas’ hand clench or the desperation in his eyes. She doesn’t know how much Karaas has riding on this.

She leaves the Herald’s Rest to see him heading down the stairs, to the lower latrines so he won’t be bothered. Cold spring wind lashes her hair against her face. She has to spit some out her mouth. Caught again with no sodding hair ties—where do they all get to?

She makes her way to the lower courtyard and past the merchants’ stalls. _All right. Look, you can do this._ Sera can’t quite tell if she’s practicing what she’ll say to Karaas or telling herself she can console him. Her and words don’t always fit. _But someone’s got to try. He’s my lover’s brother, so he’s family._

One of the horses neighs as she walks past the stables. She’s spun around and heading there before her brain says why: that neigh sounded off, like a shout. Sera can just imagine Karaas bellowing and punching a wall. No one would think to look for him in the stables. And once the angries are out, it’s back to the Rest to be smooth as butter the rest of the night.

She pushes the stall door open. A fireplace in a stable’s stupid (even Beardy admitted that), and there’s still some mages who aren’t at the College of Enchanters, so everything’s lit by magical glow-lamps now.

But there must be something wrong with this glow-lamp. Some mage hit the wrong rune or whatever. Because what it’s showing makes no sense.

There’s Barty, one of the stableboys, on his back in the muck and straw, grabbing at his throat like he was punched there. There’s Brownie, one of their coursers, out of his stall near Karaas, who’s turning to face Sera. Karaas must’ve slapped on dragon hunter vitaar as he walked—white and black streaks run from forehead to cheeks, and there’s a yellow smear ‘round his mouth like he’s a toddler eating apricot jam.

Nothing makes sense.

Karaas moves fast, but he’s big, noticeable. He snaps his fist out and Sera’s dodging aside before the punch lands.

“Oi! Karaas—what—?”

Another punch, another dodge. Some part of her is calculating how she can slam her fist into his throat.

Something chill touches along her bare arm: the dish towel. Sera didn’t even notice he still had it on him. _Who brings a sodding towel to a fist fight?_ He doesn’t throw it at her face or try to bind her hands with it. Just a touch, then he flings it to the muck at his feet.

_No frigging sense!_

Sera takes stock: No bow. No arrows. No flasks. No inner circle. Just her in a loose shirt and pants against a fully-armoured Qunari wearing the best vitaar in Thedas. But there’s a pitchfork behind him on the far wall. If she can just snag it....

She jabs at his throat, but he expected that. He grabs at her arm. She dodges, but only just. Grabbing his outstretched arm, Sera swings herself between his legs. He kept his stance wide. Good combat strategy—shite for dealing with tricky rogues.

Now, the pitchfork. She lunges forward and snatches it from the wall. Her breath sticks in her throat as she turns around. She swings the pitchfork out in front of her like a sword. Karaas faces her, standing in front of Brownie, like he’s thinking she’d hurt her favourite horse just to stop him from leaving. Prick.

Her breath hitches again. Sera readies herself to charge, breathing deep—or trying to. There’s a noose, inside her skin, tightening around her neck.

_Poison._

She throws the pitchfork at Karaas anyway because fuck him. It clangs harmlessly off his armour, then falls in the straw with a sound like a tired, bitter chuckle.

Sera keeps filling her mouth with air, but it’s not going where it should. _Barty._ The lad’s gone still. _No._

Karaas turns away, puts his hands on Brownie’s withers and swings himself up onto the horse. Someone riding out from Skyhold bareback is odd, sure, but everyone knows Adder gave her brother dragon hunter vitaar. The guards will probably let him go. Or maybe he’ll just poison them, too. Who knows what else he’s got?

Karaas digs his heels in, and Brownie trots out the stables. Only Sera’s gasps, now. The dracolisk hisses, like he’s jealous he didn’t get to go. The bastard would just love to take part in Adder’s evil brother’s escape.

Because the dracolisk’s a bastard who’s gone after the other horses loads of times, whose neigh is a scream loud as an alarm bell—

Sera bolts for the dracolisk’s stall. Spots dance across her vision as she strains against the heavy bar across the door. Once she finally lifts the bar, she swings the door open.

The nightmare steps out, all fangs, horns and scales. His gaze locks on Sera, who suddenly remembers all the times she insulted him. What if he remembers, too? He doesn’t know words, but maybe he knows tone. What if he takes revenge?

Then, the beast raises his head, sniffing at the air. Sera’s limbs are growing heavy. With a hiss, the dracolisk tears out of the stable. He doesn’t neigh. _Frigging thing. The one time he keeps quiet! Who’ll catch Karaas now?_

Sera’s on her knees. She can’t remember falling. When did her pulse get so loud? It’s all she can hear as she crawls to Barty. His skin looks blue, but that’s gotta be the glow-lamp. Everything looks off in witchy, unnatural light.

Snagging his shoulder with one hand, she uses her other to start dragging them out of the stable. Or what she thinks is out. It’s getting hard to see. She strains, muscles burning. Did she even move?

Sera tries again. It’d be nice to have Blackwall’s fire back in the stable. Everything’s cold.

Her cheek’s resting in the straw. _Get up, stupid. No time for a—_


	2. Scoundrels

"Magical healing sometimes does more harm than good, Your Worship," a woman is saying wearily as Sera comes to. The voice is familiar, but Sera can't quite place it. "Infection may still set in. I'll be in here every hour to examine her throat for swelling. If she has any difficulty breathing, find me at once."

Sera's lying in a cot, covers up to her collarbone. Feels like her throat's been punched by a giant. Each breath hurts. She opens gummed-up eyes.

They're in a tent in the infirmary; Adder's sitting on a chair beside her cot, a bowl in one hand. The healer watches them, along with a balding, staff-carrying man—one of them spirit healers, probably. Outside the tent, it's bright. Morning, at least.

Seeing Sera's eyes open, Adder half-sighs "Sera." Beaming, she squeezes Sera's shoulder.

Fighting past the pain, Sera manages, "Barty…?"

"He's okay. Stitches is taking care of him in the other tent. Bull's okay, too. Here, Stitches made this...." Adder holds the bowl out to her. Inside is reeking brown liquid. "It'll soothe your throat and help you sleep."

Plugging her nose, Sera gulps the mess down. She can still taste it, unfortunately—it's like a lemon shagged a puddle of cat-piss. Adder hands her a cup of water that she drinks gratefully. Hard to keep her head up, after that. The healer says some more shite, Adder listening and nodding.

 _Wait...what happened to Bull?_ Sera tries to ask, but her lips won't move. All has the energy to do is close her eyes.

* * *

When Sera wakes up, she's still puzzling over Bull.

 _Poison in the beer_ , she remembers. _It went all over him. Did any hit Buckles?_

At least her throat doesn't hurt much—now it's her bladder that's all swollen and achey. Sera knows by the feel of the sheets that she's in her own bed. She opens her eyes. It's night and Adder, in her nightshirt, is reading beside her. A candle on their nightstand is the only other light in the room besides the fire, which is burning low.

"Hey."

Adder's gaze snaps to Sera's throat before meeting her eyes. "Hey." Closing her book, she smiles at Sera, who squirms in close for a cuddle. Up close, Adder looks exhausted. Smells rank, too. Definitely hasn't bathed since all this shite went down.

Adder's arm snakes around her shoulders. _Might not have._ How many things had to come together for this to happen? Her stomach drops, like she's looking off a high cliff.

Sera kisses Adder, soft and quick. Then again. And again. Like building a bridge across that cliff to some warm, sunny land on the other side.

Eventually, Sera has to pull away. "Back in a mo."

She makes for the chamber pot. Adder follows, kissing her all the while.

"Trying to piss, loony!" But Adder doesn't give a toss. Positioning herself, Sera lets loose. The pressure easing from her bladder makes her sigh. Now she can focus on the kisses at the crook of her neck, the thumb teasing her left nipple, the large hand squeezing her arse. Sera barely has time to wipe herself clean before Adder presses her up against the nearest wall.

Different kind of pressure down below, fiercer and finer. Much better.

Sera grabs Adder's shoulders, lifts herself up and locks her legs around Adder's waist. She tugs her shirt off heartbeat later. Then Adder's mouth gets full access to Sera's tits. Adder knows what to do. Their minds don't always agree on things, but their bodies always have.

All Sera can reach with her mouth is Adder's bald skull, horn nubbies and ears. She mouths, nips, licks. Bolts of heat go straight from tit to clit with each beat of her heart. It's grand, but shit for Sera's coordination; she licks the top of Adder's head now and then, outright slobbers in her ear at one point. Stupid, but it doesn't stop Adder.

Helplessly, Sera's hips begin to grind against her lover's belly. Biting down hard on her lip, Sera stops. Adder blows cool on her left nipple and Sera squirms again. But Sera wants that agile tongue of Adder's other places.

"Buckles...frig...Buckles...."

Adder begins to kneel down, but Sera stops her with a grunt. Instead of going down, Sera wants to go up. Putting her weight on Adder's shoulders, Sera curves her spine to bring her legs up higher until she can hook her ankles over Adder's shoulders. Her muscles burn a bit, but they do what she wants. Not like when she was dragging herself through straw and shit. Rolling her eyes, Adder pushes up on Sera's arse and pulls it in close. Sera braces herself against the cold wall, shivering.

Up high. Taller than a Qunari, even. And breath on her clit. But not tongue. Not yet. Why not yet?

"You know, this'd be more comfortable on the bed..." Adder says.

"Here now. So get to work, Herald."

Adder doesn't start with her clit, the bitch. She nibbles a little the inner ladybit flap; Sera's legs twitch, pressing her heels against Adder's ribs. _Loves her buildup, this one._ Taught Sera to like it, too. Sometimes.

As Adder's tongue starts swirling, Sera looks around at their room. Their world. A memory flashes: wee-Sera climbing the big sodding tree in the Alienage. The one you weren't supposed to climb. She'd looked down on her whole world like this once before. A much shittier world, then. _This is like old times. Well...maybe not exactly like...._

Sera laughs at her joke—so hard she throws her head back and smacks it into the wall. "Shite!"

Adder says something like, "That's it." She moves away from the wall. Sera grips her horn-nubbies and curls forward for balance, though the strength of Adder holding up her arse never wavers. _Like flying_ , Sera thinks, giggling, as her lover crosses to the bed.

Adder bends down and spills Sera onto the covers. Instead of joining, she looks down at Sera, distant and unsmiling.

"Buckles?" Sera spreads her legs more, hoping to snap her out of it.

Adder looks at her ladybits, flushed and wet. Tears well up in her eyes.

"Frig! Piss-bucket! Um, look, just—deep breath! Chin up!"

A sniffle is her only reply.

"But I'm so sodding—argh!" Sera throws herself back on the bed. The throb lessens soon enough, at least. Hard to stay hot when your lover's all sniffly.

"Almost dying and not getting shagged..." Adder says, sitting down beside her. "It's a cruel world." She wipes her eyes, inhaling slowly. "I just need a minute."

Sera leans her head against Adder's shoulder. The cotton of Adder's nightshirt is smooth and fine against her cheek. "You big baby."

Adder jostles her. "Brat. But brilliant." She kisses the top of Sera's head. "Only you would've thought of letting the sodding dracolisk loose."

"Come off it. Brilliant's not getting poisoned in the first place. Or not diving for that pitchfork. Don't even know why I thought that was gonna help. He ain't hay—I can't pitch him. Too sodding heavy. And also he can move." _Oh, yeah, talking about her mate-murdering brother. That'll turn her on._

Sera only has herself to blame when Adder replies with a distracted grunt. She drapes her arm over Adder's shoulder. Feels the urge to run for her journal or grab her knitting or start playing her lyre. Once, stilling the urge would've been a fight. Now, it's easier. Her lover is worth the wait.

Adder turns to look at her, face solemn. "Somehow I managed to forget how beautiful you are." She shakes her head, bewildered. "How did I forget that?"

Sera's stomach twists with guilty recognition. Adder's still her lover, but she's also the person Sera sees every day. Like a bed, a fireplace, a bowl. All those things you start not to think about. She can't remember the last time Adder came with her on a Red Jenny mission. The last prank they pulled together was two whole months ago. Sure, Sera made an effort to drag Adder away from work for one day. Just one. Didn't try for two, or three, or a week.

_Our last shag was fine. Not great. Not grand. Just fine. And I settled for that. No more frigging settling._

"I'll remember now," Adder continues. "Always. And I'll tell you every day how important you are to me."

"Same, Buckles," Sera vows. "Same. 'Cept I'll be less words, more doings."

Her gaze roams down Sera's body. "Speaking of...." She grins sly as a fennec. "Let's get back to where we were before, hm?"

A grin and a quip when she could've whispered hot in Sera's ear or pulled her tight or pushed her down onto her back? "Only if you want it."

Adder's a touch offended. "I do!" But a moment later, she glances aside. "Well…I will. Just let me warm up first."

"Could do that, yeah. Or we could—here—" Sera tugs Adder down so they're lying facing each other "—just stay like this and snog a bit until we fall asleep. Which sounds better?"

Adder's lips part, but whatever she wants to say is locked inside. She grimaces. "The latter. Ugh, this is so embarrassing.... We'll at least tell everyone we shagged each other sore, right?"

"Oh, frig, yeah. We got reputations, don't we?"

* * *

 When Sera gets up, Adder has moved to the couch. She's still reading a book, but there's a letter on her lap and a few crumbs. Her reading candle burned all the way down in the night. Did she at least have a nap?

Seeing her awake, Adder gestures to the letter. "Karaas has been very cooperative with Charter." Adder takes a moment. "He says he's Qunari."

 _She's gotta be knackered._ "Well, sure. Can't be a dwarf, yeah?"

" _Qun_ Qunari."

"Wait—what?"

"I had the same question," she says grimly. "But it makes sense. The poison in the ale was meant for Bull. Who else wants to kill him but the Qunari? This is just a friendly reminder that he'll never be safe, not even in Skyhold."

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but doesn't reach her eyes. "Do you know, when his throat started closing up, Bull grabbed this thin reed with a sharpened tip from his pocket and slammed it into his throat? It kept his airway open so he could still breathe."

"Shite."

"Yeah. He always expected the Qunari would send someone after him. After Stitches and a spirit healer helped him out—and after he and the Chargers finished choking back their tears—Bull laid everything out for me. He calls Karaas a Tallis—they're something like assassins. He figures my brother is pretty fresh out of training. According to him, any decent Tallis would've grabbed you and bartered your life for safe passage.

"But being my long-lost brother who wanted to get in good with the Chargers was the perfect cover. He doesn't say much about his life? Things between us are strained. He lies about how long he's been a mercenary? Just him adding a few years to seem more impressive.

"As for how an assassin can walk into Skyhold with poison, well, he probably swallowed the poison in a capsule and shat it out when he got inside the walls." Despite herself, Sera giggles, which Adder ignores.

Adder stands, tossing her book spine-down on the couch. "I think I should have a chat with my baby brother. He doesn't know Bull's alive yet; Charter figured he'd let more slip if he thought he was successful. I want to see the look on his face."

Sera's got to admit—his shock when Bull, Adder and Sera walk into the prison is pretty funny. He's shirtless now. That and traces of dragon hunter vitaar make him look a lot more Qun Qunari.

"As-eb vashe-qalab!" Karaas spits out.

 _Could be an elfy swear_ , Sera thinks, but when Adder sighs all disappointed, Sera knows she's wrong.

"Shanedan, Tallis," Iron Bull says pleasantly.

Karaas breathes in and manages to control his face, slackening the muscles, turning it expressionless. _So polite, so distant—shoulda frigging known!_

Adder stands straight, shoulders back but not too back—alert, but not on guard, not from the likes of scumbag little brothers. This is the woman who mouthed off to Corimipants with a dragon overhead and Haven burning around her. Sera's never been prouder of anything in her life.

"Huh. A Tallis. I owe you a beer, Bull." To Karaas, Adder says, "Word to the wise: don't try to kill the Bull when he's surrounded by his Chargers. So, was any of your story about that Dalish clan true?"

"All of it, actually. When the Dalish turned me away, I made for Kont-aar." That name means something to Bull and Adder. They don't look confused or surprised. Sera'll ask them later. "In a few years, I was sent to Par Vollen. Then I returned to the south knowing my true purpose." A smug glance at Bull, there, who he thinks lost his.

"Pretty shit at performing it, though," Bull remarks, and Sera giggles to see Karaas's jaw clench.

"I...miscalculated."

"Why the Qun, Karaas?" Adder asks softly. "After everything our parents went through...."

Karaas can't keep his cool. His hand clenches. "At the end, our mother wished she'd stayed in Qunandar."

Adder recoils, breath hissing in surprise. Instinctively, Sera reaches out and grabs her hand. For the first time, Karaas glances at Sera. Her gut lurches, remembering what she'd thought was their moment of connection in the Herald's Rest. Bastard. Must've been laughing at her the entire time.

"She'd ramble for hours about a home where no one ever went hungry. Where everyone worked toward a common purpose." He glares at his sister and his voice bleeds hate. "Where nobody hurt children."

Suddenly, Sera's back in the barn, watching Barty try to breathe. "Bullshit!" Dropping Adder's hand, she steps forward and smacks the cell bars hard. It hurts, but a good kind of hurt that gets her madder. "You sodding tried to kill a kid! Barty Greenwood. Just turned thirteen a week ago. Just him and his mum and his little sister and fuck you!"

"I told him not to cry out, and he did." Karaas shrugs. "He made the wrong choice."

"To kill and not subdue is the mark of a disordered mind," Bull says. Sounds like he's reciting something—something that makes Karaas glance away guiltily, then frown in annoyance that his body gave away so much.

Karaas' gaze falls on Sera's hand, still achey, on the cell bars. Amused, he snorts. "It seems we're always seeking our parents, aren't we, Her—?"

"Nuh-uh," Sera says. "Not happening. You're in a cell, not a bleeding stage for you to do your little 'muahaha' speech on."

Karaas sneers at her. "Do you even know your love—?"

"Yeah, I do. So piss off, and get used to the part where you failed. At. Frigging. Everything."

He stopped listening to her after first few words. Now he's staring at Adder, hand making a quivering fist at his side. For all his rage, he speaks coldly. "You beat me like a dog and then ask me why I went to a place that would keep me safe?"

Sera laughs scornfully. _Shite, he's really giving it his all._ She waits for Bull to natter on about Ben-Hastur training and how he can tell Karaas is lying.

Bull doesn't. Sera glances over her shoulder. He's frowning at Karaas. Adder's full on staring at the waterfall below, jaw clenched. Not looking at Bull. Or Karaas. Or Sera.

The moment Sera realizes he's telling the truth is like when that second giant appeared during the fight in Suledin Keep: her stomach drops and her fingers grow cold. Only she could put arrows in the giant.

 _Guess I don't know her. Not for true._ Sera won't give Karaas the satisfaction of knowing how much this hurts.

"Nothing about our childhoods was meant to happen." His breath comes harsh, but his voice is gentler. "Our parents got caught up in southern lies: Love of money. Poverty. Nobility ruling peasants. Life being one of ceaseless competition. Those lies killed them.

"The Qun offers truth, or as close as we can get in this world. I'm sorry you never knew the gentler path, Herah."

Silence falls before Sera steps up. Someone has to. "Not her frigging name."

"She hasn't yet called me mine."

"You're right," Adder says quietly. She turns to look at her brother. For once, Sera sees Adder flinch, but she doesn't look away. "I haven't.

"For what it's worth, Tallis, I'm glad the Qun brought you some peace. I hope it continues to do so." She nods to the cell. "You're going to be in here for a while."

Only when Adder turns tail and makes for the door does Sera realize she didn't even go to her lover, just stood here by the cell like a daft cow. Adder half-runs past the guard and mounts the stairs two at a time. Sera has to run to catch her. She glances over her shoulder, sees Karaas glowering at Iron Bull's retreating backside.

Sera gets to near the top of the stairway to find Adder standing still. Adder turns, looking behind Sera, at Bull. Sera crosses the distance between them and grabs Adder's hand in her own.

Gaze never leaving Iron Bull, Adder snaps, "Well, go on. Say it!"

"You're going to have to be more specific, boss."

Adder glares at him like he actually knows and is playing dumb to piss her off. "Just another savage Qunari. Yeah, all my talk about how Tal-Vashoth don't always go bad.... I was lying. I always knew about the rage we keep inside."

These words are all sorts of wrong. Adder doesn't think that shite. What, like no human or elf ever hit someone they shouldn't have? Like only Qunari go bad?

Bull grunts. "You were good, boss. I believed you."

Adder's gaze sharpens. She's always half-joked how she wants to out-lie the professional liar. Then she shakes her head, sharp and violent. "That's _horrible_ , Bull. That means I forgot what I did to him. I _never_ meant to forget."

"All I know is you believed it when you told me. Now, it could be that, in that moment, you'd forgotten shameful things that happened decades ago. Or it could be you're a damn good liar. Maybe that lie succeeded because you knew how much it would mean to me after I became Tal-Vashoth. I can't answer this for you, boss.

"But if it was a lie...well, I'm impressed."

Adder swallows. Then sniffles, looking down. Then drops Sera's hand, closes in on Bull, and pulls him into a hug. It's hard and bone-crushing, the kind only two Qunari can give each other. She must hold back so much when she hugs Sera.

Burying her head against Bull's massive chest, she sobs, loud and wet, like something's try to cut its way out her chest. Proper sobs. She's never done that before. Iron Bull strokes her shoulders and back up and down.

Sera gets close to her, rubbing her back wherever Bull's hands aren't. There's knots all up in her shoulders, hard and tight like pebbles. _I pay loads of attention to her front. But it's her back needs attention. It's where she keeps the pain._ Bull moves his arms once he realizes what Sera's doing and brings her into the hug, too. Maker knows his arms are long enough. Sera rests her cheek against Adder's spine, feeling her back shudder as she cries.

"Buckles, he can frigging—can frigging nail his dangle-bag to a door, yeah? Sod him."

"It's all right, boss." Bull's voice is soft and calm, while Sera's stalls and leaps and cracks. "We're here for you."

 _Frig. Shoulda said that!_ Sera hadn't even thought to. Wasn't it obvious?

Adder's legs buckle. Bull tightens his grip. Now it's just him and Sera holding her up. Adder screams, muffled against Bull's huge pec. Even her arms go limp. She screams again, even louder, less pain and more rage. Gets Sera's chin gets all wibbly and her eyes all watery.

_I'll kill him. He deserves all the arrows. Every frigging one._

Gathering her strength, Adder jerks out of Bull's arms so suddenly that Sera stumbles and almost trips on the stairs behind her. Adder's face is flushed an even darker grey, her cheeks and nose gleaming with tears and snot. Without looking at either of them, she jerks the door open and storms out into the courtyard.

Sera follows. It takes her a few steps to remember Bull. She tosses a "Thanks, mate," over her shoulder.

"No problem."

Sera's sick just thinking about all the eyes on Adder as she crosses the courtyard, walks up the stairs and through the great hall to her door. People are pretending not to notice, and Sera doesn't hear any whispers, but anyone would wait until Sera's out of earshot to start. The people in the great hall are Skyholders, at least, no strangers who'd want to spread gossip on raven wings. _Small blessings._

Sera gets up to their room to find Adder standing in the centre, looking around. Following her gaze, Sera realizes she's looking at Sera's stuff. Her journal. The Red Jenny corner, with the piles of maps and notes and butt markers Sera knitted when she was bored one day. The stuffed frill-lizard. The lyre by the fireplace. All the knitting projects scattered here and there. The fancy knight painting Sera's been meaning to put up for ages. A doodled-on Ocularum skull, now upside down and used as a flower pot. A cracked dragon's horn on the bookshelf. The fancy cups and bottles she collects. Wicked Grace cards. All the shirts, shoes and socks Sera keeps saying she'll put away later.

She'll look at Sera's things but not actually at Sera.

 _I didn't go to her, and she's proper pissed. Shite._ Sera breathes in deep like you do on the first proper day of spring. Like that smell of springtime air, it clears her mind. She can make this right. Adder doesn't stay angry long. "Buckles...I'm an idiot. Surprise, innit? I'm sorry."

"For what?" She's still teary and wipes at her eyes.

Sera crosses the room and stands in front of Adder. "For not going to you when Karaas was snarling. I shoulda. Sorry, yeah? Make it up to you—" Sera almost says 'next time,' but hopefully shitty family members trying to murder friends isn't that regular a thing, "—somehow." Is this a gift kind of apology? Her fingers itch for her brush and her journal to start writing down ideas.

Adder finally looks at her. "I tried to tell you. I meant to tell you a hundred times...."

 _She goes right to the hurtiest part...._ Sera makes herself shrug like she doesn't care. "Yeah, well...." When the next thought comes, it startles her out of her hurt for a mo. "Not like I'm the only person you hid it from, innit?"

"Cole knows." Adder reaches into the leather chestpiece of her armour, pulling out a white handkerchief.

"Of frigging course he does."

"Not that I told him, exactly...." With a shake, she unfolds the handkerchief and blows into it.

"Ugh. Not helping!"

Adder blows again, then folds it in half and begins to wipe her face off. "What was the first thing I ever told you about my life before being a mercenary? Granny Mae's. Some 'pity me' bullshit." As she grimaces, she tears up again. Angry tears, now.

"Hurt for you. Never pitied."

"But you deserved to know." 'Know' is more sob than word; Adder wipes her soggy face again. "Instead, I lied to you—to all my friends!—for years."

Her anger's as weird and twisty and mad as travelling through the Fade. "Your memories things friends can buy if they got enough friend-coins? Or lover-coins? It's not lyin' to just not say a thing."

"I pretended. I let everyone see what they wanted to see. The hero. The Inquisitor." It's like Sera's talking to thin air.

"Creepy tell you this when he found out?" Even Sera knows that, much as she hates Creepy, this is all Adder.

Adder shoos her thought away with a sharp, jerky motion. "Cole's a spirit of compassion. Of course he forgives everything!" She blows into her handkerchief again. "Doesn't count."

Sera's tried Adder's way, chasing a problem with words and trying to pin it down. It's time for Sera's way. She wraps her arms around Adder's shoulders, where Bull's arms were when she broke down earlier today.

Some part of Sera hates that she turned to Bull first. Some part of Sera is an idiot.

Adder goes stiff and pulls back to stare incredulously into Sera's eyes. "Did you even hear anything I said? Or _Karaas_ said?" At Sera's confused expression, Adder continues, "Sera, you—you said it yourself. You don't hit kids."

"Well...sure?" And then, Sera figures it out. "Wait. Wait wait wait wait. You think I'm mad at you because of that bad thing you did! Shite, and I thought you were mad at me. Heh. Funny! Like that story with...um...the comb...and gifts?" _Did she even notice me there with Bull helping her stand?_ Sera's annoyed, but not much. She's too relieved to have figured out what's wrong—and pain makes you slow and stupid. Maybe she noticed but couldn't piece together what it meant.

As Adder stares at her like she's gone mad, Sera keeps nattering on. "Nevermind. And all that staring at my stuff—that was you thinking you'd never see it again! Stop being stupid, Buckles."

"This was the worst thing I've ever done in my life!" Adder bellows in Sera's face. Cold washes over Sera's belly. She's _never_ shouted this loud before except in battle.

There's an Adder in front of her, but there's also an Adder in her head, one that says, _She could chew some mint leaves!_ Not a real good joke, but it's not really Adder, after all. Hearing her lover's confident patter settles Sera enough to start talking.

"Yeah, so...you remember that we've got a mate in the Grey Wardens who killed kids? And your best mate owned slaves. Slaaaaaves, Buckles. Didn't even think a thing of it until he came south. Frig, how hard is it to figure out 'slavery bad'? I mean, if you was still punching kids, different conversation. But...you're not."

"No." Adder takes a few steps back, slashing her arms in front of her. "No. You do not fucking forgive this, Sera."

"Oi! So all your words about 'do what you want, be free, always walk your own path' really meant 'just not about this.'"

"I threw a five-year-old child to the ground and shouted at him because he lost a doll. I was thirteen. I knew better and I did it anyway!" She starts crying again. "We were...in a forest. Branches everywhere. I could've tied some twigs together in two minutes...made a Maker-damned doll for him...."

"Hey," Sera murmurs. As Adder's hand goes up to wipe her eyes, Sera strokes the back of it. "You want to tell me all this, tell me. But if you're trying to make me leave, it won't work. Stuck with me, yeah?"

Adder whimpers something Sera doesn't catch. Then Adder closes the distance she keeps putting between them and hugs her. Sera whispers words she picked up from Bull as Adder tries to stop crying. It doesn't work. Maybe it would if she could make her voice like his.

 _Right, new plan._ Sera tugs Adder over to their bed. At Adder's surprised blink, she says, "Not like that. Just c'mon." The sun says it's just before noon—weird, 'cuz it feels like a lifetime has passed. She lies Adder down on her stomach and begins rubbing the muscles of her neck.

In between sniffles, Adder manages, "I don't deserve you."

Sera snorts. "You think Denerim's alleys make Chantry sisters?"

Sera flicks through what she's told Adder about life before. Teyri, the Red Jenny who died because Sera's shot went left instead of straight. The fire she set that spread to the stables, where horses screamed and burnt up and died. She finds a thing she's never told, not to anyone, friend or lover or mother.

"When I was a sprog, I was hanging around the baker's for some old bread. All us beggar brats did, 'less we'd got coin for better. We'd dart in and fight over it, then run off.

"One day, there's the usual lot. Denny from two streets down, Martin, the one with the lazy eye—such a shit, he was—but, whatever, not important. Anyway, we're all there, and I see this pile of rags in an alleyway. I go over. Never know what you'll find.

"Only, not rags: girl. Human. I seen her around. She begs near the tannery. Not having a good time of it, neither. She's clutching the alleyway wall, gasping like she's just run to the baker from far away. Only she can't frigging run, not with her legs just skin and bone—and I mean that for real. That's not me being poetical.

"The baker brings the burnts and bricks out. We all run and scratch and snatch. I got a crust. Not Tannery Girl. She couldn't make it. Hungry as she was, don't matter if your body won't get you twenty paces.

"And here's me, with my crust…and I walk past her. Some-not-me-body will do something, I figure. The baker, maybe. He don't want kids dyin' right outside his shop—that's just plain bad for business. I couldn't stay. Not with all those other little shits eyeing my take.

"So I said, anyway. Coulda gone back and gave her half when the others was gone. Even some frigging water from a puddle might've helped."

Sera moves to rubbing the knots along the shoulder blades. Adder's sniffling is going away, slow but sure.

"Well, guess what? The girl wasn't begging by the tannery the next day. Not the next, not the next after that. And when you got your begging patch, you cling tight. Leave it during the low times, sure, but when people are moving here and there, you stay.

"And she—" Sera swallows. Her throat's going tight again, like when she was poisoned. "She weren't there."

Adder sits up, pulling Sera onto her lap and resting her chin on top of Sera's head. Sera's left ear is right up against the hard column of her throat. She feels when Adder swallows, hears the small gurgle of moving spit.

It takes a while for Sera to start again. "Now, yeah, she coulda been found by some Lady Emmald-type. Some Chantry Sister could've picked her up and let her stay, become a mini-sister or whatever. But...that's a fairy-story ending. We know how it _really_ ended.

"So...yeah. Guess the lesson of that story is kids is stupid."

She feels the words gather in Adder's throat, small vibrations around the larynx. "Or we were just bad kids."

"Good thing us bad kids found each other, innit?"

Adder doesn't reply. Sera's tired of talking and leaves her to the silence.

* * *

Karaas' judgement is set for three o'clock. Adder requests Josephine's help with some makeup. Lady Josie shows up with a proper glass hand-mirror and a box full of the shite.

Adder stares as Josephine opens up a case of powder the exact grey as her skin tone. "How do you have all this?" She opens a small bowl, revealing a slightly darker, shimmery powder. "I thought I'd be lucky if you had some eyeliner...."

"I got these from a Seheron merchant for our first visit to the Winter Palace. I'd hoped you might wear some."

"Hah!" The laugh doesn't come out so natural. This is Adder trying to be Adder. "Ever the optimist, Ambassador. Sorry to disappoint you."

"Disappointed? Far from it! I consider getting Sera," Josephine nods to her, "and Vivienne to wear the same outfit a great triumph. And we saved the Empress—a much more significant triumph, to my mind."

Bad enough Adder's wearing the fancy outfit, like the one she wore to Halamshiral but coloured different. Black, trimmed in silver, with a sash of blue so rich it's gotta have some fancy name, like sapphire or cerulean or whatever, because the word blue's too common. Adder didn't even dress like this for Blackwall's judgement.

But it's not Sera sentencing her flesh and blood for attempted murder, is it? If Adder needs this, Sera's got her back.

Sera hates herself a little, but when Josie's done, she's intrigued. She doesn't like Adder's wrinkles gone—Adder looks wrong without her laugh lines—or her glossy lips—looks like she ate fatty bacon. But around the eyes…woof. No more purple-tinged circles, lashes somehow even thicker and longer, lids subtly sparkly, and a touch of some bluey-green eyeliner so her orange eyes stand out even more.

After a few moments of examining her work, Josephine nods. Her expression softens. "My lady Inquisitor, if I may do anything else to help you this day, you have but to ask."

"Thank you, Josephine." Adder speaks so gentle, so warm....

Josephine touches Adder's shoulder briefly, which hits Sera like a kick to the gut. On good days, Sera's over her Josie jealousy. Around a year ago, Adder admitted she'd fancied the ambassador before she and Sera got to know each other. All Sera said was, "Knew it! Want me to nick some of her pantyloons and ruffleshirts? We could play sexy-pretend...."

A laugh burst from Adder, who covered her mouth like she was trying to cram it back in. "If I'm having a bad day, maybe. You being Josie.... I should charge money for that."

But every now and then, something ugly flares up in Sera's gut. Especially with Josie talking so pretty, making Adder smile. Does Josie have to have the perfect words _and_  the perfect Concern Face _and_  the perfect amount of hand on shoulder? _Not fair._

As Josephine leaves, Adder's admiring herself in the mirror. "You know, I've been thinking I should change my look a bit." She glances at Sera, half-smiling. "Maybe I'll use the Mirror of Transformation in the Black Emporium to get my horns back...."

"Ugh, shut it."

The great hall is packed for this judgement. Sera stands at the front of the crowd beside Bull and the Chargers, where Adder can see them. Karaas is led in by two guards, his chains clanking. He doesn't look at anyone. Sera's body grows tense and hatred-hot. When she catches her hand making a fist, she sucks a breath in through clenched teeth and stops herself.

"Your Honour," says Josephine, "I present before you Karaas Adaar, named Tallis under the Qun." Doesn't the great hall buzz at that. "His charges are the attempted murder of the Iron Bull, Sera, and Bartholomew Greenwood, and attempted theft of one of our horses."

"Really? We needed to add horse thief to the list? The first crimes weren't bad enough?"

"It is traditional to read out the entire list of charges, Your Worship."

"Of course, of course." Adder looks at her brother impassively. For a moment, she's quiet. Sera gives her an encouraging nod—not that Adder even looks her way. _'Course. Go to me for strength, but only so far. Then it's Bull, then it's Josie, then—_

Adder inhales and starts talking, smooth as if this is any other judgement. "Do you have anything to say in your defense, Tallis?"

Sera wouldn't have given him a chance to talk. Her stomach churns. What if he tells everyone about Adder beating him?

Karaas looks at his sister, stoic and untouched. "Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun."

 _He's playing his part_ , Sera realizes, _just like she's playing hers._

"'Victory is in the Qun'?" Adder smirks. "Not today. As a Tallis, you're meant to be the dagger of the Qunari."

"That's not strictly—" Bull mutters to Sera, but Sera shushes him.

"If Par Vollen wants a blade as dull as you, Par Vollen can petition us for your release. Until then, you will remain a prisoner of the Inquisition."

The flesh at the side of Karaas' eyes contracts a touch. Not a glare, but the start of one. Then it's back to the silent, giant monster. The guards lead him away without a fuss.

"That's all, Lady Ambassador." As the crowd disperses, Adder gets off her throne and makes for Sera. "Could you get me the necklace of the kadan, love?" She turns to the Chargers. Sera just catches her apologetic, "If he'd been any other assassin—" before the noise of the crowd drowns her out.

Sera gets it from the storage room. She also grabs a bottle of whisky from Cabot. Bull and the Chargers are leaving as she's coming back up the steps. A few are obviously bitching until they notice Sera and shut it. Bull directs Sera to her and Adder's room.

Adder's lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The gloves and boots of her oh-so-fancy outfit are scattered about the floor, almost blending in with Sera's clothes and shite. Hiding the whisky behind her back, Sera enters and throws the necklace of the kadan at her.

They go onto the balcony. Adder leans against the railing and stares out at the mountains, brooding. Sera's met this Adder before—after Haven and when the Valo-Kas were captured by anti-Qunari shitheads. She went silent (Haven) or growly (Valo-Kas). But she had Skyhold to find after Haven and Inquisition soldiers to rescue her merc group.

Sera stands beside her, shivering. _I'm her Skyhold. I'm her soldiers. I gotta be._

Adder straightens, takes a step back, then throws the necklace of the kadan into the air with her whole body. She screams, a sound of rage that echoes, like the mountains are mad for her, too. The necklace unfurls, looking almost like a bird trying to spread its wings and fly back to Adder's outstretched hand. Not a bird, though—it's gone in a heartbeat. It'll land below with the broken bed, teacups, squashes, and all the other things her and Sera have tossed over the side to see what the splatter looks like.

Sera holds out the bottle of whisky.

Adder looks at her like she doesn't quite know who Sera is or what this bottle means. She blinks. Shakes her head. Her fire-orange gaze comes back to now, where it should be.

Adder grins, pulling Sera and the bottle close.


	3. Rotten

Sera understands the appeal of the broody balcony now.

Sera's still fondest of the roof of the Herald's Rest. There's always something going on. If you wanna chat with someone below, just shout. If not, just watch people coming and going. You can make up stories about what they're doing. Sometimes, you catch something interesting, like that fling between Ritts and Jana they thought they were hiding so well. Even without people, there's the birds. Last spring, her and Adder watched two crows build a nest under the eaves of the armory. Mama laid eggs, and she and Papa fed the scraggly little chicks until one day the young'uns were glossy-feathered and able to fly. (Except the one that fell from the nest. Adder swore never to tell anyone that Sera got a bit teary when she saw its still, pink corpse.)

None of that on the bedroom's balcony. Just sky and mountains and sun. Today, not even a cloud interrupts the blue. There's something calming about all that.

Windy, though. Sera spits hair from her mouth, tucking her hair behind her ears for the billionth time that day. _Coulda sworn I had a hair tie on earlier in the day. Frig._

"Sera?"

Sera pretends she didn't hear.

"Seeeeeraaaaa." Louder this time. After a few moments, Adder sings, "never an agreeable girl…."

Sera's sigh is stolen by the wind. She steps back in their room, closing the doors behind her. "What's the order, Buckles?"

"Mm…." Adder is sprawled out on the bed, a bucket by her usual side, a few books scattered about. "White Shear."

"On it." She stops to kiss Adder's cheek on her way out. She inhales before she gets in close; the reek of booze and old sweat is overpowering otherwise. It's not just bathing Adder's forgotten about, neither. Her hair's coming back, shading her skull light brown.

Sera makes her way to the Herald's Rest. For the first time in a while, she glances at where Varric used to be. A daft thing to do. He's not there, of course. Nor's Cass practicing by the dummies when Sera steps outside. The wind's less in the courtyard; the sun on her shoulders feels almost warm.

The inner circle's scattered, but Skyhold's been trying to help its Inquisitor. Every day, there's a basket full of pretzels outside their door. Plain, salt, garlic, cheese, sesame seed, poppy seed, sunflower seed, almond…even some kinds Sera's never seen before. Sera will pay her mates in the kitchen back somehow.

Even little Barty Greenwood, who almost died himself, is doing what he can. The day after Karaas' judgement, Sera saw him working in the stables. She stormed over to Horsemaster Dennet to curse him out, but he said Barty wanted to work. "He says his mum just cries all the time. A few hours at the stables seem to help him." Barty's trying to make Brownie less skittish. "He was scared by that bleedin' dragon-horse, Lady Sera," the lad told her worriedly. "Hasn't been quite right since." Sera brings Brownie apples and sugar cubes every day.

The advisors try, too. Cullen flagged Sera down once in the great hall and asked if Adder wanted to play chess. "I just realized it's been some time since our regular game has been...ah, regular. If the Inquisitor wishes to resume, I'll be—" he grimaced a bit in embarrassment, "well, she knows where to find me." Give him orders and he'll roar 'em; give him kindness and he'll stammer and flinch. Sera's tried to get him and Cass together loads of times—to the amusement then annoyance of both—and now she gets why their sparks never flared up. Cass needs someone with bigger emotional stones.

Josie would maybe help, but she's off in Val Royeaux for another meeting about this Exalted Council coming up in four months. Meetings before mates, seems. Sure, she apologized over and over and asked if Adder wants anything from Val Royeaux, but that just proves she's feeling guilty about being a shit to her friend.

Charter's got nothing. Well, a few letters here and there, but that's just business she'd be bringing to Adder anyway. Which, fair. Not like she and Adder are close.

Bull tries to be there for Adder, only she won't let him. No going out drinking with him. No helping him train the Chargers. Anything he brings up, she shits on—oh, politely, but a no's still a no. Going from 'dearest mate' to just 'polite' has gotta be a fist to the sack. Adder won't say why the change, but it's got to be the crying thing. Maybe she hates that she turned to Bull, too.

The Herald's Rest is quiet. Just the morning staff in—and Cabot. Weird. He takes the evening shift. _Someone's sick?_

"A bottle of White Shear, Cabbage."

"I'm fresh out."

"Um...no, you're not. Saw Gregg and Calas unload a crate yesterday." Last night was quiet at the Rest. A few bottles gone is one thing, but whole crate doesn't just sprout legs and walk off.

Cabot meets her gaze. "I never saw it."

"Them two shits is nicking your booze, then, 'cuz it was there. I know it."

"I _never_ saw it."

Is this code or something? "Um, all right…. A Vint-1, then."

"Fresh out of that, too."

"You didn't even bloody check! How'd you—" Then Sera figures it out. "Wait. You're cutting the frigging Inquisitor off!"

"I know her limits and I know when she's past them. A perk of the job."

"Oh ho, I get it. Supply and demand, right? Look, I can _supply_ you with an extra coin or two. Be easier on you than me _demand_ ing your bottles. You savvy?"

"Not a chance. Look, it's been almost two weeks." Sera startles. _That long?_ The days have started to blur together. "I just want her dry for a few days. Then if she still needs some booze after that, we'll talk."

A few days? Piss on that. What the else is Adder supposed to do? "Well—just—frigging…. Sod off, Cabot! No, no, wait: Cab-bung! Cab-bunghole!"

Sera stomps off. She pretends she's going up to her old room, but instead grabs some knitting, sneaks out and waits where Sutherland and his crew usually are, so she can keep an eye on the bar but Cabot can't see her. He's gotta take a piss sometime. Every now and then, Sera glances up, looking around for Cole. She frowns whenever she catches herself.

It's forever, years, ages before Cabot leaves, putting Brianna in charge.

When Sera approaches, Brianna frowns uneasily. "Sorry, Lady Sera," the young woman says. "Cabot said not to give you anything."

"Arse-face! Trying to get me to pay my tab. As if I'm no good for it! He this hard with you as he is with me?"

"He's good to us." Loyal twat.

"Look, it's not for the Inquisitor, yeah? Buckles's had her fill for today. It's for Bull, to celebrate him bein' alive and all."

Brianna looks skeptical. "I'm sorry, my lady. It's not worth my job."

Before Sera can think of something else, Cabot re-enters the Rest. He doesn't look surprised to see her. "Sera."

"Friggin' piss-bag shite-twat."

"I'm surprise you're asking. Here I thought you'd throw down a jar of bees, or shout 'Fire!', or slip in the back disguised as a servant."

"Shite, those woulda been good." Sera frowns. Just thinking about them is exhausting. _Getting old. Usedta be I could do all three._ "Look, my lover—remember her? Saved our life from some dark-magister and his Arch-dragon?—gave me a sodding job: White Shear. Have some sodding compassion. One bottle. Just…c'mon, be a mate."

"So, you've got somebody watching her right now? To make sure she's breathing normally? Not having a seizure? Not choking on her own vomit?"

"What?"

"You don't, because I asked Bull to watch over her and he hasn't come back yet." He looks at Sera, sympathetic. "Look, I won't be the man that did what Corypheus couldn't and killed the Inquisitor. I need to see her back on her feet." He reaches beneath the bar, pulls out a small satchel, and tosses it to her. "This tea should help with the headaches."

"You're a right prick, Cabot." But Sera takes the satchel anyway, glancing inside. White willow bark. Even Sera knows about that cure.

The position of the sun says she's been trying to get a bottle of booze for two hours. She practices what to say to Adder on the walk back.

As she enters their room, Sera says, "So, yeah, Cabin was robbed—"

Adder's crouching by the fire, a book in hand. She rips a page out and feeds it to the fire. Flames snap it up, leaving only floating specks of grey ash in a matter of heartbeats.

Sera's brain goes blank.

"Robbed?" Adder glances over her shoulder, confused. "Really?"

Her skin's gone corpse-cold. Bull is sitting on their couch, watching Sera, eyebrows rising a tick in concern.

There's a lot of ash by the fire. Some on Adder's nightclothes. She's not just burned one page.

 _No. She's sober-ish. You do and say stupid shite when you're drunk, and when you wake up it's just a foggy memory. Someone who loves books wouldn't do_ this.

With a small smile, Adder says, "Um, still waiting for the punchline, love."

"Buckles…what…." Sera hasn't felt so small in ages.

"Oh, this?" Adder's expression tightens as she glares at the book. "Philliam was one of the few books I had growing up, did I tell you? Even back then, I knew he was trash. I should've done this years ago."

"Dorian's going to be sorry he missed this," Bull comments with a grin.

Adder chuckles but then turns back to the fire. No follow-up joke. No asking about Dorian's latest letter. Just that wall that would be driving Sera mad if it were between her and Adder.

Sera tries to catch her breath. Bull isn't bothered by a burning book. Maybe Sera's just gone a touch mad, cooped up in a room with just drunky here for company. Even Sera's heard of Philliam; not like Adder's torching some one-of-a-kind book. What's a few pages if it makes her sweetie feel better?

Sera doesn't look at the bookshelves, their titles all by alphabet, the spines cracked because they're always being opened, and tries not to remember the scroll in Adder's desk listing everyone she's lent a book to.

With a creak of his leather harness and woosh of his poofy pants, Bull stands. "I should probably make sure Rocky hasn't blown himself up yet. We've got a wrestling competition going on at twelve. Want to come?" He's always got something to try and get Adder out of this room.

Adder shrugs. "Nah." Bull doesn't even rate a goodbye. No more see-you-later-Bulls for him. It's up to Sera to say, "Thanks—might come out for that wrestling."

After Bull leaves, Adder says, "So...back to Cabot being robbed…." Her flat tone says 'What's the real story?'

 _Yeah, that lie was a grand idea._ "Um...he's cutting you off."

Adder gives a short, disbelieving laugh. "Seriously?"

"He wants you dry for a few days. I told him he's being an arse, but—"

"Mm, no, he's allowed not to sell to me, I guess." She doesn't seem too bothered. The other day, Adder gave a rambling, slurred rant about how "getting drunk" doesn't mean "being a drunk." "I don't need it. That's the difference." Seems that's one drunk-thought that's stuck around in the sober light of day. (Sera hopes most of the other drunk-thoughts have vanished. Some of them were right grim.)

"Could be fun, yeah? There's things we can do when you're sober." To make sure her lover understands, Sera sticks her tongue out and licks invisible ladybits.

"Eat ice cream?" Adder says, forehead wrinkling in confusion.

"No, I—" But Adder's frown becomes a grin. Sera blinks. When had Sera stopped expecting jokes from her lover?

Tingly warmth rushes from gut to toes, making Sera grin back. Feels like forever since she's felt it. _That's not right. Me almost dying and not feeling more in love with Buckles than ever? I'm a daft tosser, these days._

Glancing at her book, Adder tosses the entire thing into the fireplace. Without thinking, Sera steps forward.

"Relax, Sera." Her lover's tone is kind for first time in ages. "It's just Philliam."

Sera stops moving. Already the flames are catching. By the time she gets to the book, there won't be much left to save.

"The guy puts an exclamation point in his title," Adder continues. "'Philliam, A Bard!' Honestly, this was overdue."

Sera turns from the burning book to face her lover. Adder is smiling, for real and true. _Finally._ "Yeah. Right. Frigging books."

_It helped. That's all that matters._

* * *

That evening, their room smells like willow bark tea. The next day, Adder's hands start shaking.

She doesn't take it well.

"Fuck," she snaps. She's sitting on the couch, glowering at a book she's trying to hold.

"It'll stop." Sera's at her Red Jenny desk. Ardley got a great tip on some noblewoman whose handsome grooms and butlers keep disappearing out by Churneau.

"I _know_ it'll stop." After a few moments of trying to read, Adder tosses the book to the floor. "My mother's hands shook like this." The comment comes out like she's saying any old everyday thing, but pain and Adder's mum are yoked tight no matter what.

"It ain't a _mum_ thing, it's a body thing. Hands shake and heads hurt. And worse! A Denerim Jenny, back when I first ran with 'em, he lost his lover. Took his mates months to pry him outta the bottle. They said when he was drying out, he started seeing things. Hearing, too. So if you think the cat you had when you was five is floatin' in the air, it's not."

"I never _had_ a cat."

"Right—a dog, yeah?"

"I never had—Maker's balls, Sera! A mabari breeder in Kaiten let my family tend his pack for a few months when his family fell sick with the flu. How hard is that to remember?"

Embarrassment and pain shoot through her gut. _Stupid, stupid Sera._ She tries to gulp it down, but it doesn't leave. _Why can't you just be normal?_ She keeps her lips closed tight. Now's not the time for a row.

"And," Adder continues, "you can stop pretending to do Red Jenny shit just to babysit me, by the way. You're not that busy—you've been staring at that map for forever."

"'Cuz I'm trying to plot who's close and who's far and who can do what and how good they can do it." Sera waves her list of locations, schedules, and distances in Adder's direction. "This'll be a big'un. For little people—sparklies too, I'm hoping, but that's not the main point of it. This bitch's got some serious sword-power on her side. Gotta bring in the best. Maybe we could go, once you're better?"

"I don't even know what I'm agreeing to. Could I have a story with a start, middle and end, please?"

Sera slaps her list back down on the Red Jenny table. She told Adder about this mission—well, less telling, more babbled as she massaged Adder's skull to stop a headache. Makes sense she forgot. "There's this bitch in—"

"You know what? No. No big crazy frigging adventures. Let's focus closer to home for a minute." Adder makes a furious gesture to their room. "Clean up your shit, Sera. I'm not your mother. This place is a fucking sty."

Sera remembers all the laters and all the soons she's given about cleaning up. _Not like I was getting my concentration back anyway._ So Sera leaves the Red Jenny table and gets started.

Then Adder lays into her about how she does it.

"What did you just do?!"

"Um...put some clothes away? As you so kindly requested, oh Lady of Her Sacred Gloriosity."

"You just dumped them all in one drawer! Shoes, underpants, shirts…. What are you going to do when you're looking for something specific—search through every single drawer?"

"Right, so are you thinking 'bout my evil twin Sera who gives a toss about planning outfits?"

That throws Adder, which only makes her bitchier. "And what if you want to start, huh? You're going to take forever looking in the morning, probably waking me up…."

The Adder in Sera's head makes her say, "Got other ways to wake you up, yeah?" and curl her fingers for emphasis. To make sure Adder gets it, Sera adds, "You know. Down there."

"By Andraste's—argh, why is everything a joke with you?"

Sera stares pointedly at Adder, the jokingest person she knows. Adder just glares back. After a few moments of this, Sera shrugs. "So, you're being a twat. I'll be back when you're done."

She leaves to Adder snarling, "Of course. Doing chores is something only boring people care about. That's not for Friends of Red Jenny, oh no. Go on! Have fun. I don't even care!"

Sera's feet take her outside. The day's overcast, but the clouds are soft dove grey. It's not been a rainy spring so far. Bull and some of the Chargers are out in the courtyard. Sword drills, today. Bull works his people hard, but that's what you do when you're the best, innit? Right now, he's watching the six sparring matches going on.

For the first time, Sera thinks being a Charger might be kind of nice. Following someone else's schedule. Knowing what you're going to do almost every day. Having someone help you be better.

Seeing Sera, Bull nods. "Hey—how's it going?"

It's only when Sera's jaw tightens further that she realizes she's been clenching it hard since she left her room. Probably while cleaning, too. Lately, her teeth have been sore, like she's clenching her jaw in her sleep. Her body's betraying her, like it did in the stable when she tried to crawl to the door.

Bull snaps out of professional mode easy. Everything's so sodding easy for him. "Krem?"

Panting, Krem steps out of his sparring match and moves to watch the others.

"Want to talk about it?" Bull asks softly as he approaches.

Sera shrugs, stepping aside. "No."

"Want to hit things?"

"No."

"Want to—"

She wants to shout at him, but what she wants is stupid. More screaming and hard words don't help anything or anybody. So she looks away, at the Chargers swiping and dodging and blocking. And once the anger burns itself out, sadness floods in, so strong her vision blurs with tears. As always happens. So sodding embarrassing. _Maybe that's why I try to stay so angry all the time?_

"If I knew what I wanted, I'd be doing it. But that's me, innit? Not knowing. Worked for a while, I s'pose. All I did was move on." That Red Jenny who lost his lover, that bloke whose name she can't remember, how did his friends help him? What did they say? What did they do? Sera doesn't know. Past-Sera didn't give a toss.

His huge paw rests so gentle on her shoulder. "Let's go inside."

He means the Herald's Rest, of course. Their home. She feels like a kid next to him as they take a table, even more when he orders her some stew and water. She's not hungry, but pushing the beef and beans around the bowl with her spoon gives her something to do. She makes a stupid game of putting all the carrots and peas on top, then covering them up with broth again.

"So?" she asks.

"So what?"

"You got thoughts. You're always thinking. You shoulda been Iron...um…." She can't think of a smart animal. "Whatever. Probably could have Adder fixed in two shakes if she'd chat with you for more than a mo."

Iron Bull chuckles quietly. "I learn people's weaknesses and take people apart. Under the Qun, it's the re-educators that put them back together. I haven't seen their like here—something like Chantry mothers comes close, though."

She glances up at him. "All Karaas' Qun-words make you think of the old hometown?"

"A bit, yeah." He can even talk about what hurts. If Bull had a cookies story, he wouldn't keep it locked up tight so the sharp edges cut him all the time. "And, well, if you want my thoughts: you can't fix Adder."

Sera freezes. It's bad enough that she knows how shite she is—does Bull have to make it even truer by saying it?

"Adder's pain isn't a thing to 'fix,'" Bull continues.

"But how does she get better?"

"She faces it. She lives with it. We let her know she's not alone. And," he gives her shoulder a quick squeeze, "we take our own breaks when we need it."

It's like he's talking a whole other language. How can he be so thick? "I don't need 'breaks.' I need to be better. She should have better. She deserves it."

Anger starts to cling to her guts and her heart. Breathing deep, she tries to shove it away. Not like Bull was there for Adder's drunken joke about what it would look like if Sera pushed a Qunari off the balcony. He didn't realize what burning a book meant. Some things only a lover knows.

Sera used to love that Adder showed so much of herself to Sera. Now, it's a weight grinding her down.

"Sera...one thing I've been thinking about lately is the Qun has a lot of rules. When I left, I lost all that. I've been trying, every day, to live without the 'shoulds.' I think you've got more 'shoulds' in your head than you like people to believe. Maybe put them aside. Do what you can for her in the moment—that's where you shine. I've learned a lot from you, in fact."

Sera drops her spoon. " _You've_ learned from—? Oh, sure. Riiiiiiight. You with the Qun-name that means liar."

"I'm serious. Sure, half the things you do make no sense to me, but you always _try,_ and fuck the odds."

Sera grunts. She's too tired to make words and argue with him. Grabbing her cup of water, she starts drinking, and only realizes how thirsty she was until she's tipping the cup to catch the last drops at the bottom.

After she finishes, Iron Bull says, "Probably Dorian and I wouldn't be a thing if it weren't for you."

Sera glowers into her soup. "If even the daft nattering brat can make it work, why not us?"

"You're open and free with your feelings. Determined to find happiness. That's pretty damn brave." The way he's looking at her...it's like he means it.

Sera can't remember the last time she blushed this much. "Weirdy. You're making it weird. Shut it, you—you weirdy."

Bull chuckles. "All right, all right. Almost dying's made me into a big mushball. You wouldn't believe the sappy shit Krem's had to put up with."

It's never really sunk in that Bull could've died, too. Tears fill up her eyes again. "Gah! We're just the soppiest little band of mates ever, aren't we? Frigging Kar-arse. Good thing Conelpuss is long gone, innit? We'd be useless."

"I know! And in Seheron, assassination attempts came every week!" He shakes his head. "Ah, maybe I'm just getting old. Glad Dorian isn't here to see me like this."

Sera feels a twinge of pain for her mate—Adder's being an arse right now, but at least she's here.

"Buckles hasn't wrote him a letter yet about all this shite." Would be weird if it were any other situation. "I can nick it when she sends something, cross out anything that says you're being a baby."

"Appreciated." Bull snorts. "'I need to be better,' my ass. You're great, Sera."

"Urgh—you spreading out the honey to talk me into some stupid battle stunt or whatever?"

"And I think you're helping Adder a lot more than you can see right now."

Sera, to her deep embarrassment, sniffles. She tries to think of something to say, but ends up going back to playing with her stew, trying to fit all the chunks of beef on one spoon.

Bull stays with her while her stew gets cold. It's a while before Sera pokes her head back into her room. The room is dark, curtains drawn, and Adder's sleeping. Sera creeps into their bed and curls up next to her.

* * *

Sera's in the dungeon. The waterfall roars dragon-loud. Faint light bounces off snowy mountains beyond, showing off Karaas. He stares at Sera, unreadable, untouched. He doesn't flinch when she holds her bow out, nocks an arrow, draws.

There's a hand on hers, keeping her bow steady, helping her draw. It's Adder but not quite. Adder with long white hair in a braid. Adder with no horn nubbies.

_Their mum._

And even as Sera thinks this, she lets the arrow fly. She can't call it back. Karaas stumbles, the arrow in his eye. Their mum is gone; Sera doesn't see her leave but just knows she has. Hands trembling, Karaas snaps the shaft off then tugs out the arrow.

It's Adder in the cell, not Karaas. Her left eye's a gaping, bloody hole. "Sera?" she rasps. Her eye weeps red tears. She sighs, annoyed. "Seriously?"

Sera wakes up, gasping. She never thought anything would be worse than the Fade nightmare. She reaches for Adder, but Adder's not there. She's reading on the couch, her candle the only light in the room.

Adder shuts her book, looking at Sera as Sera sits up. "Everything okay?" Her hands aren't shaking, but she's not relaxed; from the steaming mug beside her candle, Sera assumes she's trying to hold off another headache with some more willowbark tea.

"Stupid dream."

"Oh?"

No way is she telling Adder what it was about. "I think Cofeemus? Can't really remember, now I'm up." She nods to the couch. "I kick you in my sleep again?"

"You'll be happy to know I slept absolutely horribly after picking a stupid fight with the love of my life. I'm so sorry."

"Happens, yeah?"

"You don't have to accept so easily. I'm prepared to beg."

 _Two eyes, no arrow, and look, she didn't just become Karaas. Nothing to get weird about, right?_ Sera wishes her mind could work like that. She runs her fingers over the smooth cotton sheets. "I'm off to chapel." Once she's said it, she realizes that's exactly where she needs to go. It's been ages since she went. "Want to come?"

"No thanks."

Not like Sera expected different. They've talked about religion a time or two ever since Sera begged Adder to convert years ago. Adder's up to "Maybe there's a Maker"—killing Caniferus helped loads in getting her there. Considering how long it takes Sera to change her mind, Sera's got no right to complain. So Sera bites down on saying, 'You ever think it might help?' Now's not the time. She throws some clothes on and leaves.

The chapel door creaks when Sera opens it. Other than that, it's dead quiet. When Coryphemus was alive, seemed there was at least a few people in here, day or night. But chapels are always empty when times are good.

There's candles in notches in the walls so people can light them without anyone disturbing the beauty sleep of the brothers and sisters to ask for them. Sera grabs one tallow candle and lights it for Adder. Then she lights one for Karaas. Then their da. Then their mum. Then Barty Greenwood and his mum and sister. Then Brownie because Andraste would be a twat if she didn't recognize animals. Then Teyri, the Jenny who died because Sera wasn't good enough with a bow. Then Tannery Girl, gone for no reason other than Sera was in a shite mood that day.

There are people Sera never met. They died in Verchiel. Soldiers died at Mythal's temple while Adder faffed around with elfy shite. Loads of little people died in Gaspard and the Empress's pissing match, people who never saw a proper grave.

Soon, there are no more candles in the chapel. The floor's cool brown-grey is washed in yellow light. Her fingers are gummy from all that wax. Sera's and Andraste's shadow are the darkest things there, and suddenly that feels frigging eerie. Daft, mad Sera. What's scary about shadows? _Feelings just leap out at me like cats pouncing with claws out._

Sera makes herself stay. After a while, the little flickering flames become kinder, helpfuller. She sighs.

"She's done loads," she says to the statue. "You think you can let up a bit?" No answer. Of course.

As she leaves, the candles nearest the door wink out, but most of them are still glowing when the chapel door shuts.

Adder's not in the room when she returns. Not on the piss pot. Not on the broody balcony. Not anywhere. Her nightie's tossed on the floor, her regular leathers gone, but no scarf, no gloves—she dressed quick.

If this were any other time, Sera wouldn't care. Not like they're chained to each other, are they? She glances guiltily at the bookshelf nearest the balcony door. It's got a book-sized gap, like a missing tooth.

Sera walks back down to the main hall. All she has to do is find the place that makes her feel sickest, and go there. She stops by the prison first, but the guard says no one's come in.

The Herald's Rest is next.

"—Could just step over you, Cabot," Adder is joking as Sera opens the door. "No offense, but you're pretty short."

Cabot's blocking the door to the back, where they keep the booze. The rest of the night staff are out: Gregg, Calas, Martine. The Rest is silent as a tomb. Seems like nobody's noticed Sera.

Sera waits for Bull to show up. Sure, he and the Chargers aren't around now—if only the three staff are around, it's been a pretty slow night—but they'll walk in the door any second now.

Martine, who was standing frozen on the stairs, walks toward Cabot, moving slow like she's going to her own execution. "He—he said it's just for another day, Your—" she gulps "—Your Worship." She stands beside him, hands clasped before her, likely to stop their shaking. Adder sent Martine's sick mum to the spirit healers last year, and now her seizures are mostly gone.

"There's what a barkeep with delusions of grandeur said and there's what _I'm_ saying." Her tone's still light, and somehow that's worse than if she were screaming or swearing. She sounds like regular, funny, cheery Adder.

"The Inquisitor's got the coin," Gregg mumbles. When he's serving Adder, he and her make cheesy horn jokes.

"Thank you, Gregg. I'm not being unreasonable, here."

Of course, tonight's the night the Chargers aren't drinking. Who knows where they're at. Tonight's the night it's just Sera.

She steps into the room and shuts the door.

Adder looks over her shoulder. "Good evening, love." She's got a small smile on her face that's fake as anything.

"I've cut you off a hundred times, Inquisitor," Cabot says. "Now's no different." As he speaks, Sera strides across the distance between them. It might seem like the air's thick, like the eyes of Adder and the Rest's staff are pinning her down, like she's so distant from her body she could just float away, but that's not really happening. Just her stupid mind and its stupid tricks.

Adder turns back to Cabot. "Actually, it is. You're cutting off someone who's dead sober." Sera's by her side when she finishes talking and grabs her hand. Adder's palm is slick with sweat—unless that's Sera's sweat?

"Buckles—" is all Sera gets out.

Adder's smile becomes a snarl and she jerks her hand from Sera's. "I'm busy, Sera." Tight and cold. "Get some sleep. I'll join you soon."

"No." Her pulse is trying to punch its way out her throat. "Just—this is his job, yeah? Let him do it."

Adder opens her mouth to speak. No words come out. She closes her lips, purses them, then smiles, and it's horrifying. "Then," she chuckles, "maybe it shouldn't _be_ his job."

This isn't Adder. It's the Inquisitor. Push a person with power enough and they start swinging it around. Below the surface, she's just like every other noble prick.

Adder looks at Cabot, who doesn't flinch. She nods, like she can respect that, then says, "Gregg, you're the new barkeep. Anyone else want to lose their job over one lousy bottle of whisky?"

Martine doesn't leave Cabot's side. Calas goes to stand with them. Calas is young—every time they talk to her, she's got another plan for what she's going to do with her life once she gets enough coin.

"The steward will see to your severance pay," Adder says without hesitation. If she'd paused, Sera could've pretended she felt regret.

The Adder in Sera's head start nattering, making Sera giggle though she feels like sicking up. "Always thought I should own a tavern. Cabot, Martine, Calas—you're in."

"What in Andraste's name—you know what?" Adder shakes her head. "Nevermind. I don't want to know. Look, just—"

"Buckles, stop being a cunt." Sera steps in front of Adder, between her and the bar. Adder doesn't like fights in public, so Sera bites down on further swears. "Let's go up to the old room and chat, yeah? You and me."

"I'm not done here." Her gaze goes over Sera to the back door.

"You frigging are!" I need you to stay you, she told Adder once Corinipiss ate it. _Stay you. Please._

"They brought this on themselves," Adder snaps. "I'd do the same to anyone who didn't do their jobs."

It's hard enough for Sera to breathe, much less figure out what to do. Her head is pounding. Did she ever really know her lover, after all? If Adder can do this…. "Stop it!"

With a huff, Adder starts to step around her. Sera blocks her, hands pressing on her shoulders.

"You need to stay you. This isn't you. This is your mum, and you can't let that bitch hurt you—hurt others!—from the grave…."

Adder's gaze shoots poisoned arrows through Sera. She's never had so much hate on her face. Adder's hand twitches and Sera steps back.

Adder's expression shifts, eyes widening. She catches a shallow breath. Swallows, after a moment. Sera reaches up to stroke her cheek; Adder turns her head away as tears well up in her eyes.

Sera holds her hand and pulls her upstairs into Sera's old room.

Once she's inside, Adder drops to her knees. A few tears trickle down her face. Sera tugs her in further so she can shut the door. It takes a few seconds for Adder to move. She's in shock.

There's one thing Sera can do—she gets on her knees, too, and hugs her tight, like she can hold her all together. Adder's breath catches in her throat.

"I," she sniffles, "I see myself killing him all the time. My own brother. I know so—so many...so many poisons—" That's all she gets out before she presses her head against Sera's shoulder and keens loudly.

Sera wants to scream, too. To break the world apart to keep Adder safe and sound and herself.

"I'm sorry," fights its way out between Adder's sobs, "I don't—I can't hurt—not you—I'll—I'll hire them—I love—I just can't—I can't think—"

With a gasp, Adder wrenches herself out of Sera's hug to stare into her eyes. The moon's full outside; there's enough light to faintly make her out.

"If I ever hurt you," Adder says, choking down her sobs to speak clearly, "you need to leave me. You can still stay at Skyhold, but we won't be together. There's some things love can't overcome. Things it shouldn't."

Sera can't leave her. Not ever. But what's a little lie at a time like this? "Yeah. 'Course. If it's a big hurt." Sera's slapped and been slapped in arguments with an old lover or two. They don't count. Unless they do? Time to sort it later, if anything like that ever happens—which it won't.

"And," Sera gulps, "same for you, yeah? If I...ever hurt you…." Karaas could see her temper at a glance.

"Oh, Sera." This time, Adder hugs her. "I will, love." Then she can't talk for crying, and neither can Sera. In the deep nighttime shadows are junk, bits and bobs and broken things. Sera knows this, but every now and then they feel they could be like people with accusing eyes. Sera always was scared of the dark.

After a while, Sera forces out, "I'll go down. Make so we still have a bar staff. Don't—don't wanna—I mean, the Chargers'd be pissed. Dangerous, that."

Sera wants to believe Adder chuckles, but it's probably another sob.

The light's so bright it feels like it comes from another world. Sera stumbles out. She feels like when she just got back from the Fade. Like everything's shifted. Took her weeks to get rid of that feeling after Adamant—if it ever really left.

Cabot, Martine, and Calas look up from where they were huddled by the bar, whispering. Gregg's stepped out.

"Oi, so I'm not owning a tavern, you're staying in this one, everybody in the same job they had before. You can," she sniffles, "probably talk Buckles into a raise. She's feeling shite enough. That, back there, that wasn't her. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," says Cabot, "we do." He holds a handkerchief out to her.

Sera blinks. He almost lost his job, but he still cares about them enough to do this. Why doesn't Sera tell people how grand they are every day? It's not fair that she only thinks of this shite now and then.

She can't tell him now—she tries, but words won't make it past the lump in her throat. All she can do is bound down the steps, snatch the handkerchief from his hand, and blow. It's not what Cabot deserves.

_If Buckles don't give 'em a raise, I'll slip 'em some coin. I'll make it right, somehow._

* * *

Nobody asks Adder about raises after her tearful apology. They're too bloody polite—or too scared of the Inquisitor. So Sera makes a note in her journal that night to pay the Rest's night staff back. All except Gregg, the arse. The rest of the staff feel the same way, judging by the look Calas shot him and how Martine refused to look at him. Someone's not getting cake on their name-day from their workmates.

Neither Sera nor Adder sleep well back in their own bed. At one time during the night, Sera happens to be awake when Adder finally drops off. She creeps over to her Red Jenny desk.

There's a thought she has now and then. A tiny thought. A stupid thought. Not even a full thought, just a smattering of images and words that aren't even in the right order: A dress in a shop window. Sera standing in a chapel with Adder. Adder saying "Yes, love, _yes_."

Sera writes a letter to Josie in Val Royeaux.

 _I need this dress._ She sketches it—long-sleeved, sleek and white with a gold collar. _Saw it in the window of a store. Think the sign was two strands of pearls. Or maybe two women dressed in white. Definitely had blue windows with gold trim._

 _Act like you bought it for yourself. I'll nick it from you when you get back. WHATEVER YOU DO DON'T TELL BUCKLES._ Sera considers, then scratches that out. _You can tell Buckles. Whatever. Not like it's for anything special._

Because getting a dress that fine means it's going to get torn up by orphans who need white cotton for bandages, or pissed on by some Orlesian lap dog, or trampled under the hooves of a stampede of wild horses that'll run through Val Royeaux because they heard Sera was getting a not-at-all-wedding dress.

After a moment, Sera scratches that out, repeating _ABSOLUTELY DO NOT TELL BUCKLES._

She gets the letter sent off before Adder wakes up. Sera leaps into bed with her and cuddles close while trying not to think about being Sera Adaar (maybe, someday, if Adder even says yes). It's too much now, all this shite mucking up her head. Feeling Adder breathe slow and steady against her makes things simpler. Giving her soft, good-morning kisses makes things easier. They deserve a little easy.

After breakfast, Adder says, "I've got a question for Karaas." So, after making a side trip to the library, Sera follows her down to the prison.

Karaas looks surprised to see them. He must be exercising loads—the cell stinks of Qunari sweat. His vitaar is gone. Sera didn't notice the first time she was down here, but the Inquisition guards took away the copper at the tips of his horns, probably so he couldn't use them to pick the cell lock.

 _Ram horns. They coulda been Bull, Ram and Snake if things had worked out._ Her gut aches at the thought of what could've been. _So frigging stupid. Who gives a toss about might-haves and maybes?_ She breathes in. _But I'm allowed some stupid, too. Bull said, and he knows real shite._

"I brought you some books," Adder says. She slips them through the cell window. Sera had fun picking out the most un-Qun books she could think of: she landed on Swords & Shields and Randy Dowager Quarterly. Adder put in a few histories.

Karaas takes them only to toss them on the floor without a glance. "I never was much of a reader." He eyes Adder. "You could have sent these by guard. Why are you here? Qunandar couldn't have responded this quickly." Is there a faint quaver on that talk of home? Or is Sera just willing it into his tone to imagine some crack in his armour?

Adder swallows before answering. "That necklace of the kadan you gave me—is it even real?"

"It is."

"Ah." She shifts her weight from foot to foot, opens her mouth, then closes it. Finally, she says, "I'm surprised the Qunari let you keep it."

Karaas snorts. "Then you're a fool who knows nothing of her people. Joining the Qun doesn't erase a viddathari's past. I kept the necklace on me as a reminder to remain humble and grateful."

"Adder _knows_ her people," Sera snaps. Then she winces. Like shite isn't hard enough for Adder without Sera nattering on.

Adder doesn't look away from Karaas, but her hand finds Sera's and squeezes gently. "So you just gave away this symbol you've been carrying around since childhood?"

"Some of us are ready to leave behind childish things." He looks pointedly at Adder and Sera's clasped hands.

Sera shares a glance with her lover, who rolls her eyes. This, they've heard before.

Adder flatly says, "You're not getting it back."

"I didn't expect to." No defensiveness—sounds like he truly didn't.

"I think I'm going to go outside and enjoy the sunshine." Adder turns, and Sera walks with her to the dungeon door. "Maybe talk to some people. Eat some of those fresh strawberry tarts I smelled earlier." She keeps loudly talking as they go up the stairs, pausing while the guard shuts the door. "Just enjoy being outside and not being stuck in a small cage with nothing to do but think about all my failures and regrets."

A lie, that. It's right up to the broody balcony. Sera breathes deep. The wind's so cold it burns going into her nose.

Adder leans against the balcony, staring out at the view. "When I don't see myself killing him, I see myself talking with him every day, stealing him back from the Qun. We ride off into the sunset, the three of us, on matching white horses. And he says he forgives me. For everything.

"So, Sera, what do you think I should do? Be the hero? The villain?"

Sera's never felt farther away from her lover. _What do you even frigging say to that?_

The Adder in her head whispers the answer.

"Which one of 'em makes me scream when I come? That one." _Maybe the way to win the Impossible Questions Game is not to play._

Adder laughs, sudden and short. Maybe it's not what Adder needs, not really, but since Sera can't fathom what she is, this'll stand in. _No shoulds. Just being there for her. I can be her a bit, until she comes back to herself._

Her lover's smile fades. "I hate being this, you know." Breath plumes from her in a long sigh. "This sobbing, swearing, broken person. I led the Valo-Kas while we held the Kelgor Pass for three days! By the end, I could barely lift my dagger, but I spat blood and kicked opened a cask of rum anyway. This shouldn't break me."

"Um…well, maybe it's not breaking. I mean, shite—tears, shouting, acting like a right arse…. That's loads of people. Frig, it's my Tuesday. So don't whip yourself with 'Oh no, I been spoilt forever.' You haven't.

"C'mon inside, Buckles. Come to bed."

There's no hesitation—with a soft smile, Adder leaves the balcony. _I'll ask her_ , Sera decides. _I'll ask her will you...will you m...frig. Got to work on saying it. Maybe at this Exalted Council thingy? Four months. Gives me time to get it right. I can't ruin it._

Adder's arms encircle her suddenly. She presses against Sera so tight her tits squish against Sera's shoulders and back. Sera can't help it—she shivers. It's almost funny, how easy and quick Adder gets her hot. Sometimes she thinks she should make Adder work for it, just a little, but in the actual moment she can never play coy.

"I don't want to wait for the bed," Adder whispers, breath hot in Sera's ear.

Grinning, Sera reaches behind her, sliding her fingers between their squished-together bodies, and curls them against Adder's ladybits.


End file.
